The Mafia Connection
by JamiW
Summary: The 14th story in the Free series, set after Smoke and Mirrors.  BA, MC, LR, RR, and more.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This picks up immediately post-Smoke and Mirrors. Rereading the last chapter or so might not be a bad idea. **

**For those who recently read "Out of the Ashes", keep in mind that in this series, Ross is a good guy, Moran's in prison, and Maas doesn't exist (although I reserve the right to throw him in if the urge hits me).**

* * *

><p><strong>Bobby POV<strong>

* * *

><p>"Where?"<p>

"Manhattan. W. 55th."

"Is he okay?"

"Um…yeah, sure. He's got a bump the size of a grapefruit on his forehead, a gash on his cheek, and the woman he was sleeping with only an hour or so ago is in the hands of the man who did it to him. So, yeah, he's great."

I took a deep breath instead of responding because I could tell that Mary was bordering on freaking out.

And she doesn't freak out.

"We'll be there as soon as we can," I promised.

"Goren…Bobby…" she began, her voice showing clear signs of distress. "I'm sorry. I'm just…"

"I know. We'll be right there."

I hung up and found Alex staring at me intently.

"What happened?" she asked immediately.

"One of Mary's inspectors is missing. You remember Anna…Cutter's date Friday night?"

"Yeah," she replied with concern.

"Apparently Cutter was at her place tonight. A guy broke in and knocked him out and when he came to, she was gone."

And that was the end of our quiet weekend.

I can't complain because we definitely had more than our share of peace and quiet.

Saturday, we were lazy the entire day, spending most of our time either in the bed or on the couch.

Today had been slightly more productive, but just as quiet, and then earlier this evening, we had dinner with Mike and Carolyn.

"_Okay, so I think I've decided that I'm going to look into it,"_ Mike said.

"_Are you sure?"_ I asked him.

We were sitting across the table from one another, waiting while Alex and Carolyn went to the bar.

That was kind of our thing now.

Or rather, _their_ thing.

Those two would go to the bar, leaving me and Mike alone for five or ten minutes so that we could talk about…whatever.

Tonight that _whatever_ was Mike's real father.

"_No, but I think if I don't, then it's going to keep sticking in the back of my mind, you know?"_

"_What does Carolyn say?" _I asked.

"_She says that I need to do whatever feels right. And of course, she's supportive, no matter what I do. But I figured that you might have a little more insight…"_

"_About what it's like to learn the man who raised you wasn't really your father," _I finished with a nod. _"It's kind of a blow, isn't it? Even when the guy doing the raising wasn't all that stellar. He's still the devil you know."_

"_Uh huh_," he agreed. "_But you had to find out. You did the whole DNA thing because once the seed was planted that it was a possibility, you had to know."_

"_Yes,_" I admitted. _"As far as I'm concerned, knowing is always better than not. But you know, just because your mom said what she did…"_

"_I know. It may not mean anything."_

"_So what's your plan? How are you going to find out the truth?"_

"_I'm going to see if I can track her movements during the appropriate time frame,_" he said. "_See if I can associate her with someone in particular_."

"_Sounds like a good place to start,_" I said. "_Anything I can do to help_?"

"_Actually, I'm going to source out the investigative work_," he said with a grin. "_I'm going to get Johnny to do it_."

"_You're going to hire our own firm_?"

"_I figure it'll give him something to do that won't involve any danger, you know? He took that case with the black widow, and then last week he nearly got into a brawl after taking pictures of that preacher coming out of a motel room…this'll be a win-win. My research will get done, and he'll stay out of trouble."_

"_Alex will like that_," I said on a chuckle. "_Well, keep me updated on it, okay? It's not something you want to work through alone, and I know you have Carolyn, but like you said, I've kind of been there."_

He flashed me an appreciative smile, and then we'd changed the subject as our wives returned to the table. Not because it was something we weren't going to share with them, but just because it was a heavy topic and we were all in the mood for something lighter.

So dinner was a lot of fun.

"_My face actually hurts from laughing so much_," Alex commented to me as we walked home.

"_You and Mike…"_ I said, trailing off as I shook my head. Those two picked at each other relentlessly and were the source of most of our laughter.

"_He's going to look for his father, isn't he_?" she asked me, taking hold of my hand.

"_You read him well."_

"_Almost as well as I read you."_

"_Oh, you think you know what's on my mind_?" I teased.

"_It's not hard to figure out_," she replied coyly.

And maybe she had a point about that.

When she and I are alone together, I do tend to gravitate toward one thought in particular.

So we'd gone home and capped off our weekend with an enjoyable round in the recliner.

We went to bed shortly thereafter, and that was when Mary called.

Her concern and understated, uncharacteristic panic had me on full alert.

Aside from that, when a fellow law enforcement officer is in trouble, that pretty much trumps everything.

So less than twenty minutes after taking the call, Alex and I were out of the bed, dressed, and out the door.

"We should call Ross," Alex commented during the drive into Manhattan. "I'm not sure what kind of jurisdictional issues we're going to run into."

"A kidnapping of a marshal…normally I'd say we need to stay out of it, but considering we were called in by one of them…"

"I agree. And it probably depends on whether the abduction is related to a witness or if it's random or maybe something relating to her personal life…"

"Right," I agreed, but I still pulled out my phone because Alex was also right about the fact that we needed to bring Ross into the loop.

I was sure that he wouldn't have any problem with us jumping in on the initial investigation, but he at least needs to know about it.

"Ross," he answered, dropping the title in a way that Moran never did.

"We're on our way to a crime scene," I said, bypassing the formalities.

"Lay it out for me."

So I did.

I told him how Cutter had called Lupo instead of 9-1-1.

For the sake of discretion, I guess.

I'm not really sure.

But then Lupo called Mary, since Anna is one of her inspectors.

And he called Bernard, because a good detective always calls his partner.

And after Mary arrived on the scene, something made her want to call me and Alex.

"Give me a call after you've had a chance to look everything over," Ross concluded. "Whatever the time."

"Yes, sir," I agreed.

I hung up and relayed the conversation to Alex.

"So what do you think?" she asked me. "She was taken to get information on a witness?"

"That would be my first guess. But cases like this don't usually turn into hostage situations."

"Normally the inspector would just be killed," she said with a nod.

"Uh huh. This one must be bolder. And smarter."

"Smarter. Why?"

"Because he must know the system. If the witness is here in New York, and it's someone assigned to Inspector Holly, then she'd know the location. And that's definitely a possibility, but then she probably would've been beaten for information rather than kidnapped. But if it's not _her_ witness, or if it's simply someone she accepted into the program and then transferred somewhere else, she won't have any idea where the witness ended up."

"Which means that it might turn into a trade."

"That would be one scenario. Although if that's the case, I'm surprised Mary hasn't gotten a call yet."

"But how would the guy even know who to call? Would he know that Mary's her boss?"

"Good point. Maybe he left behind Anna's cell so that he could call it to make contact?"

"Or he took it, and he's going through her list of contacts," she suggested. "I guess we'll find out soon enough."

"You know, maybe he's been watching. He obviously figured out where Anna lives. I'm sure that kind of information isn't in the phone book."

"We know how easily it is to get around that," she said cynically.

"Uh huh. He could've been staking out the Marshal Service building," I posed.

"The logistics behind pulling off something like this are staggering," she reasoned. "I would think in situations where the criminals want to off the witness, they would make their move on court day when it's clear where the witness will be on a given day. It makes me think that maybe this doesn't have anything to do with a witness."

"Let's keep an open mind and see what we see."

What we saw was a veritable circus.

At least, inside the apartment.

From the outside, I was almost thinking that we had the wrong place. There was no evidence of anything amiss. In fact, it appeared as though the entire neighborhood was sleeping.

But once we went inside the building and upstairs to the tenth floor, we found the chaos.

Bernard and Hayes were both on-scene, along with Lupo and Connie and Mary.

Hayes, who appeared to be playing more the role of comforter rather than investigator, was with Connie and Cutter in the kitchen. I'd say they were talking, but it was more like arguing.

"I don't need a doctor," Cutter was saying.

He was standing in the middle of the room, dressed only in a pair of boxer shorts, and he had blood caked along his cheek.

That knot Mary had mentioned was already starting to change color and he had to have one hell of a headache.

It looked like he'd been caught with the butt of a handgun.

A nine, maybe.

Or a forty-five.

"Mike, you're going to need stitches," Connie insisted.

"I'm fine, damn it," he fired back, moving away from the two women and heading for the kitchen sink.

He grabbed a dish towel and ran it under the faucet and then jammed it against his cheek, wincing from the roughness of his own motions.

I could just imagine what he was feeling right about now.

Shame at having been knocked unconscious.

Worry for Anna.

Embarrassment at being seen like this by Connie and the rest of us.

Helplessness about the entire situation.

I caught Alex's eye and we bypassed the kitchen, heading further into the apartment.

The living room appeared to be the focal point of the struggle. And I definitely mean struggle. Two end tables were overturned, lamps lay shattered on the floor, the contents of a roll-top desk were scattered about on the floor…not to mention the blood trail that started near the desk and ended at the front door.

"Blood on the corner of the desk," Alex said quietly.

"She fought him, he cracked her head on the desk, and then maybe he was able to control her long enough to get her out of here."

"She's not very big," Alex reminded me. "It had to only be one perp."

"You're not very big either," I pointed out.

"And if two men tried to take me, I wouldn't have much recourse. One would have a fight on his hands, but two…"

"Yeah, I'm with you," I interrupted, not wanting to even think about the scenario she was posing.

We continued through the apartment, down the hall towards the bedroom.

Lupo and Bernard were debating quietly in the bedroom doorway.

"Mary's the one who's been working the case with us," Lupo was saying. "The others were only involved in the transfer. If anyone should've been at risk, it would be her. Or one of us."

"Which is why I think it doesn't have anything to do with the case."

"Yeah, but the threat level…"

"It's probably high in a lot of their cases, considering what they do."

"Okay, so maybe it's not our case," Lupo conceded. "How many do you think Anna was working on?"

"I don't know," Bernard said thoughtfully. "But whichever the case, what good would it do the guy to take a junior member of the team? McInnis is the senior partner."

"Accessibility, I guess. She lived alone. Or at least, she was probably supposed to be alone."

"Or leverage. The assigned investigator would never give up details in exchange for his _own_ life, but he might for a colleague."

"Or it could be personal and not related to her profession at all," I spoke up.

Both men looked at me in surprise, apparently not even realizing that Alex and I had joined the party.

"True," Bernard said skeptically, and I could tell that he still thought otherwise.

Of course, he knows the details about what he and Lupo were working on, and I don't.

And honestly, I don't really believe it was only personal either. Obviously law enforcement can be the victims of random crime just like everyone else, but a home invasion-slash-kidnapping?

That was highly unusual.

"What do we know about her?" Alex asked, and then it seemed as though she could read my mind when she added, "Wealthy family? Ugly divorce? Custody dispute?"

Trigger points of a non-work related kidnapping.

"No, no and no," Mary said as she came down the hall. "If someone took her for ransom, they're shit out of luck."

"So you think it's because of a witness. How many cases was she working on?"

"She has two dozen witnesses that she's responsible for, but only four of them are active at the moment."

"Okay, so what about the rest of her team? Has anyone checked on them?" Alex asked.

"And why aren't they here?" I added.

"I didn't call anyone else yet," Mary admitted. She nodded towards Lupo and Bernard and added, "We've got our opinion, but we've been knee-deep in this case for a week and I don't want us to be overlooking a simple solution. I want to see what you think before I call in people who're likely going to over-react."

"Sure, but I think you're holding back on a key element," I said. "What aren't you saying?"

Mary looked at Bernard and Lupo for a moment before turning back to me and Alex.

"Our most viable threat right now – this case these two are working with me – it's coming from the Albanian mafia," she said in a low tone. "And they don't mess around. If it's them, and you two join this investigation, then you'll both be at risk."

"You mean like you already are?" Alex replied immediately, showing no fear. "And Lupo and Bernard?"

"Yes."

"Okay. So what's the problem?"

Mary shifted her eyes to me and I could see her apprehension and worry.

She was afraid that if she was right and the Albanians were involved, then Anna was likely already dead.

And anyone else involved in the case could be next.

"You heard her," I said after a moment. "We're in. Tell us what you know."

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Lupo POV**

* * *

><p>I'm a married man.<p>

I'm married to _Connie_.

It's my reality and yet it's so…surreal.

For nearly forty-eight hours, we did nothing but bask in wedded bliss.

Neither of us wanted to check out of the Millennium, but our weekend was over and it's certainly not a place I can afford, so early afternoon on Sunday, we headed for home.

Where I insisted on picking her up and carrying her into the apartment.

Although, I wasn't exactly traditional about it.

_"Lupo!"_ she cried out when I grabbed her and tossed her over my shoulder in a fireman's carry.

_"You had to know I was going to do this."_

_"Maybe, but not like this!"_ she argued on a laugh. "_It's not very romantic."_

"_If you want romance, then I think you've got the wrong guy_," I quipped, repeating to her the words I'd said the very first time I said _I love you_.

"_Oh, I've got the right guy_," she countered.

I set her down inside of the apartment and then without another word, I started undressing her.

She stood there in the foyer and let me do it, waiting patiently while I slowly removed every piece of clothing.

I let my eyes travel over her leisurely, anxious and yet not in any hurry to end the moment.

"_Are you just going to look, or…"_

_"I think I'm just going to look for a while,"_ I replied.

But then I couldn't just look.

I couldn't resist touching her, lightly and teasingly, causing her to close her eyes and let out a sigh.

"_I can't believe we made it through the whole weekend without the phone ringing,_" she said softly, her eyes still closed.

"_Sshh_," I said as I kissed along her neck, up to her jaw and then back around to her ear. "_It'll hear you_."

And it did.

But not until several hours later, so I can't complain too much.

And surprisingly enough, the phone that rang was Connie's, not mine.

"_Rubirosa,"_ she answered.

I gave her a questioning look at her use of her maiden name, but then as I saw the concern wash across her face, I quickly forgot about that and instead reached for my pants.

Because something was definitely up.

"_Where are you?"_ she asked after a moment. "_Did you call 9-1-1?"_

_"Who is it?" _I mouthed to her.

She held up a finger to me and then said, "_Okay, but I'm bringing Lupo, and if he wants to call, then we're calling…okay…we'll be right there."_

She hung up and then started getting dressed in a hurry.

"_It was Mike."_

_"Cutter?"_ I asked for clarification, assuming she meant him instead of Logan, mostly because Logan probably would've called me.

She nodded and said, _"He was at his girlfriend's place and someone broke in."_

_"What?" _

_"I know," _she agreed. _"And the guy took her, Lupo. He kidnapped her."_

_"Wait,"_ I said, doing my best to grasp the full magnitude of the situation. "_This is Anna, right? One of Mary's team?"_

Because I knew that Cutter had brought the inspector to our wedding, but I didn't realize they were dating.

At least, not enough where he was going home with her.

Although, I guess that doesn't really mean anything.

I don't know Cutter enough to know whether going home with women is his MO.

_And_ it's completely irrelevant.

I shook my head and focused on the situation.

"_Yeah, although he didn't know that until she and Mary ran into each other_," Connie answered.

"_And she's been abducted? What did Cutter do? Did the guy say anything?"_

_"He was knocked unconscious and when he came to, she was gone."_

_"And he called you instead of the police?"_

_"He called me because of _you_."_

Which is how two phone calls and a little more than an hour later, I found myself in the apartment of Anna Holly, discussing possible scenarios with Bernard, Mary, and the Gorens.

When Connie and I first arrived, I think Cutter was still in shock.

"_Mike?"_ Connie called out hesitantly as we entered the apartment. We'd knocked, since the front door was still closed and intact, but he hadn't answered.

"_In the kitchen,"_ was his response.

I glanced around the place, taking in the disarray in the living room as I followed Connie toward the sound of Cutter's voice.

He was sitting in a chair, dressed only in his underwear, and he was staring at the table. Blood was still oozing down the side of his face, and Connie looked back at me worriedly.

"_Sorry to interrupt the honeymoon,"_ he said in a strained voice.

"_Mike, what happened?"_

"_I'm not sure I know,"_ he admitted.

"_I called Mary,"_ I told him. "_She's on her way. So is Bernard. Tell me why you didn't want to call 9-1-1."_

Because if this was going to be a cover-up of some sort, I needed to know immediately.

He finally brought his eyes to mine and I instantly felt compassion for him. He'd obviously _been_ with this woman…and now she was gone, literally pulled from the bed.

"_I'm a Manhattan EADA. Jack's just kicking off his re-election campaign. Can you imagine the scandal involved if the press gets wind of this?"_

"_But…it's a kidnapping,"_ Connie argued lightly. "_You didn't do anything wrong."_

"_It doesn't matter."_

"_It does matter," _she continued. _"You're allowed to have a personal life, Mike."_

"_You always tell me that Lupo's the best, right?"_

"_Of course," _she replied, her eyes darting to mine.

"_If I'd called 9-1-1, it'd go to whatever cop catches it out of the local precinct. It might've been someone good and it might not. Now I've got you_," he concluded, giving me a nod. "_So find her, okay_?"

His theory wasn't completely sound, because since a marshal was involved, either they'd pull jurisdiction or Ross would snag the case for MCS, but I could still understand and appreciate Cutter's motivation.

And it wasn't hard to see that maybe his thought process wasn't performing at peak capacity right now.

"_I'll do the best I can_," I promised.

Shortly thereafter, the others arrived and I left Connie in the kitchen with Cutter and Hayes while Bernard and I wandered through the apartment with Mary.

"_I'm calling Bobby and Alex_," Mary stated after only a few minutes.

"_Why? If this is the Albanians…"_

"_That's exactly why. Because we have no idea whether it's them or not, but that's all any of us can think about. We need an objective opinion."_

And we got one.

"You said she's got four active cases," Bobby stated after Mary brought him and Alex up to speed. "Are any of them at critical points? Testimony is scheduled? Depositions taken?"

"No."

"So those four were just admitted into the program?"

"No. They're actually all four pending a trial, but they're kind of in limbo at the moment while the US Attorney gets his act together. So nothing's on the schedule, and each of the witnesses have transitioned into their new lives without any hiccups."

"Okay," Bobby said with a nod. "But with this case…Lupo and Bernard's…you anticipated trouble on the night you moved your witness, right?"

"Yes," Mary answered. "Only we didn't run into any."

"Maybe you did and you just didn't know it. What's the theory on the_ one down three to go_ message?"

"We're still not sure. We think it has to do with her family members, people who might be used as leverage to find her. Her brother's family was killed, and after that we were able to put her sister's family and her parents into protective custody."

"But that only covers two more," Bernard finished. "We don't know who the third might be."

"A boyfriend?" Alex suggested.

"There wasn't one. Or at least, not that we know of."

"You've asked her?"

"Yes. After her brother's family was killed, I got word to the assigned marshals and they interviewed her again to get more details."

"And Anna wouldn't know her whereabouts, right?"

"That's right."

"Who does?"

"I do," Mary admitted. "But I'm the only one in New York who would know. Other than me, only her assigned marshals in her current city, and their boss. That's it."

"The pilot?" Bobby asked.

"The pilot never knows who's on board his plane."

"So he knows the place and not the name…the marshals here know the name and not the place," Alex stated with a nod.

"And the Albanians would know that," Mary said quietly as we suddenly realized that the conversation in the kitchen had come to an end. "They're not virgins in the world of Witsec."

"So why take Anna, if they knew she wouldn't have the information?"

"The way I see it, there are two possibilities," I said. "One – they're going to call and ask to make a trade, Anna for the witness."

"And two?"

"Two is that her abduction doesn't relate to this case. There's something else about her that we don't know."

"I think there's a third option," Bobby said. "Maybe they're getting her to give up the name of who would know. If it's standard protocol for the supervising marshal to have those kinds of details, then it's possible that all they want from her is your name."

"So…what? Then they can torture me until I cough up a location? That's not going to happen."

"No, it's not," Alex agreed firmly. "Because you're going to have someone with you at all times, watching your back."

"Alex, I've been doing this job for a long time…"

"I know. And you've always had a partner."

"Yes, but…"

"No buts," I said, jumping on board with Alex's plan. "Until we either find Anna, or find out that she was kidnapped for a reason other than finding your witness, then you need to be with one of us."

"I like you, Lupo, but I think your new wife's going to have a problem with me sleeping in your bed."

"You know what I mean," I insisted.

"I'll stay at the Millennium," she conceded. "They have security there, and no one would associate me with the hotel."

"What is it with you people and your aversion to doctors?"

The five of us looked towards the new voice in the apartment and watched as Liz headed for the kitchen. Ross followed her for a few steps and then caught sight of us and detoured in our direction.

"Chief," Bernard greeted. "You were our next phone call."

"I'm sure," he responded wryly. "Hayes called Liz since apparently Cutter is refusing to go to the hospital."

"Good. He's definitely going to need stitches."

"So where are we?" Ross asked. "Any contact from the kidnapper?"

"Nothing yet."

"Is her cell phone here?" Alex asked.

"We haven't been able to find it," I answered. "Cutter says she had it in her purse, and that's still here but the phone isn't."

"So it's safe to say that he's got the numbers of everyone in her life," Mary muttered.

"Security footage?" the chief questioned.

"The cameras were knocked out. There's nothing viable."

"And no one saw anything? Neighbors? People on the street?"

He glanced around the room and added, "She fought him pretty hard. Surely she didn't go quietly."

"There's blood and hair on the edge of the desk," Bobby pointed out. "We think she was unconscious."

Ross nodded and then looked at Mary.

"Okay, so how do you want to play this? Are you calling in your people, or do you want my guys to work it?"

"I…should probably call my guys, but you know, I've known them for a week and I'm not won over by their investigative ability. Besides, kidnappings aren't exactly what we do."

"But if it involves a witness, there'll be information that you have to withhold, information that may be vital."

She sighed heavily and ran her hand through her hair before looking around the room in annoyance.

"Yeah. Okay, I'm going to call in the rest of my team. But I'd like to keep it in Major Case, too. We can make it a joint effort, okay?"

"Fine by me," Ross agreed. "And the first twenty-four hours are critical, so I say the sooner the better. Where do we start?"

"I'm going to make the calls," Mary said as she pulled out her phone and stepped away.

"We need to put an alert out to the hospitals," Bobby began. "Telling them to be on the lookout for Anna, in case she gets worked over and then gets dumped somewhere. She might find her way to a hospital."

"If she gets dumped, I don't think she'll be going anywhere," Bernard said softly. "If this is who we think it is, we've seen his handiwork."

I nodded as I easily brought up the image of last week's crime scene.

Six dead. Four of them children.

"Still," Alex said. "It's a place to start. And we can issue a BOLO so that every beat cop has his eyes open. And we need to knock on every door in this building to see if anyone saw or heard anything."

Earlier, we'd hit the other residents on the tenth floor, but we'd come up empty. But Alex was right. It was possible that someone saw something and didn't even realize a crime was being committed.

"We can see if any other building in the vicinity has security cameras," Bernard suggested. "It might give us…something."

We took a few more moments to discuss our plan of attack, and then we got to work.

Me and Bernard.

Alex and Bobby.

Ross and Mary.

Hayes stayed behind to take the phone call, if one came in. Arrangements were made to have a trace on the phone, just in case, but it was a long shot.

Once Mary's team showed up, they joined in the effort.

We worked all night, knocking on doors. It was a big building with hundreds of tenants and not surprisingly, no one admitted to seeing anything.

And then at five-thirty in the morning, we finally got the call.

Only it wasn't exactly the one we were hoping for.

"The call came in from Kew Gardens," Hayes told us.

And I knew by the look on her face that it was bad news. She'd come to find us as we canvassed the twenty-first floor.

"And?"

"A beat cop found her. She was naked, lying in the middle of the road, like she'd been pushed from a moving car."

"Dead?"

Hayes nodded carefully and then said, "He said he probably wouldn't have recognized her from the photo on the BOLO because she was so badly beaten."

"Then how does he know it's her?"

"She had on her marshal's badge, on a chain around her neck."

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>"I don't think it's a good idea."<p>

"I'm not asking."

"So it's an order?"

"I mean, I'm not asking if you think it's a good idea. I'm asking if you want the job."

"Look, Logan. Your old man, the one who raised you…he's your father. Going on a treasure hunt for a potential sperm donor isn't going to make anyone feel better about anything."

I stared at Johnny, temporarily nonplussed at his steadfast position on the matter.

"Is that a no?" I asked at last. "Because actually, you know, maybe it _is_ an order. I'm still your boss. Or one of them, anyway."

"Have you talked to Bobby and Alex about this?" he asked me suspiciously.

"Does that matter?"

"I just think you're opening up a can of worms better left untouched."

"And _I_ think that it's a personal decision. One that I've made. All I'm asking from you is that you handle the investigative end of it. Find me some leads, and then I'll take it from there."

"Right, but take it _where_? Do you expect to forge some kind of relationship with a father at this stage in your life?"

I got up from the chair, still holding the file of information that I'd amassed on my mother.

"Yes, I talked to Bobby about it," I said sharply. "And he agrees with me. He said knowing is always better than not knowing. So are you going to do it or not?"

"Not. It's a bad idea."

"Fine," I said gruffly, and then I headed for the door.

I hadn't been expecting a fight from him. Not at all. In fact, I thought he'd be thrilled to have an excuse to stick his nose into my personal life.

"Logan, wait," he said, getting up from his chair and following me to the door. "Look, son…I'm just trying to show you the other side."

"What other side? My father is dead. It's not going to hurt his feelings in the least if I explore this possibility."

We stood there in the doorway, having a stare-down and I wondered what was going through his mind.

What was the big deal?

"I don't want to see you get hurt," he said finally.

"You're worried about my feelings?"

"You've mentioned that your mother was a rather unsavory woman."

"That's one way of putting it."

"Well, consider the type of man she may have…been involved with."

I paused for a moment as I thought about the parade of losers who'd come in and out of her bedroom throughout my childhood.

"Okay…"

"Okay, so would you want to find out that it's one of them? Or would you rather hold onto the memory of the man who raised you?"

"He wasn't a saint, Johnny. And he certainly didn't stick around long enough to protect me from her."

"But you loved him."

"I…yes. I did."

He shrugged and looked at me expectantly, I guess hoping that he'd made his point. And in a way, he had, but it didn't make me change my mind.

"I appreciate your concern. Really, I do. But I can't live not knowing. If I had some way of doing a DNA test with my old man, I would, but I don't, so this is the only way I know to find out for sure. And if you don't want to do it, I'm not going to make you, but I'm still going to have it done."

"Okay, son," he replied quietly. Then he reached for the file in my hand. "I'll do it."

Fifteen minutes later, I was back down on the street, opening up the passenger side door of our department SUV.

Carolyn was behind the wheel and there were two fresh cups of coffee in the cup holders. She'd picked up the joe while I was in with Johnny.

"That took you a while," she remarked questioningly. "Everything okay?"

"He didn't want to do it," I told her, and then I recapped the conversation.

"I think he's got a soft spot for you, Mike," she said with a smile once I'd finished.

"He was just being difficult. Lord knows the man likes to make waves."

"He's looking out for you. I think it's sweet," she insisted.

She leaned over the console and kissed me on the cheek and then put the car in gear and pulled out into traffic.

"I can't believe we made it through the entire weekend without a call. We've been back at Major Case for more than a month now, and how long has it been since we didn't work on Saturday or Sunday?"

"More than a month," she said. "It was nice."

She glanced sideways at me and then reached over and put her hand on my leg.

"I had a lot of fun with you this weekend," she continued.

"Me, too," I agreed, settling my hand over hers. "It almost felt normal, didn't it?"

"Normal is subjective," she answered with a wry grin, and then my phone rang, so she added, "It's also a thing of the past."

"How'd you know it was Ross?" I asked after looking at the display.

"Call it a hunch."

"Logan," I answered.

"You're not at 1PP yet."

"Um…no, sir."

"It's eight o'clock."

"Yeah, we're almost…"

"Never mind. I've got one for you."

"Okay," I said carefully, surprised by Ross' crisp tone. "Where?"

"Crystal Avenue in Westerleigh."

"Staten Island?"

"I thought you'd like it," he replied cynically. "Just be careful they don't try to keep you."

"Somehow I don't think you'd be too upset."

He sighed heavily and was quiet for a long minute.

"It's been a bitch of a day," he said at last.

"It's eight o'clock in the morning," I pointed out.

"Uh huh. Okay, so head on out there and meet up with Eames and Hayes, okay?"

"Whoa, hey, this is their case? We're taking it over?"

"They tracked a suspect there last week."

"Oh, the place where they found two dead bodies?"

"Yeah, only now they've got five dead bodies, and the commissioner says he wants, and I quote, _real cops_ on it."

"And you're giving it to me?" I joked.

"_And_ your better half," he replied and for the first time in our conversation, I finally heard a hint of typical Ross, the one I'd been missing since he first called.

"Sure thing, Chief. We'll take care of it. Do Eames and Hayes know we're taking away their ball?"

"I'm sure you'll be diplomatic, Detective."

"Yes, sir," I answered. "Oh, and Chief…anything you want to talk about?"

"It's…well, I guess you'll probably hear about it soon enough. A US Marshal was killed last night. Anna Holly."

"Cutter's date?" I asked sharply.

"Yes."

"What happened? Is it case-related or…"

"I can't really get into details. And honestly, I don't know much."

My first instinct after hanging up with him was to call Mary, just to check on her, but I held off.

She was probably in full crisis-management mode and a show of sympathy might rock the delicate balance.

"You're going to call her, right?" Carolyn asked after I brought her up to speed. She was obviously just as concerned about Mary as me.

"No. I don't want to shake her control," I answered but I was second-guessing myself.

Because I was definitely worried about her, and I knew that John had left yesterday, heading back to London, so she wouldn't have him to lean on.

"I'll text her," I decided as I started a message.

_**I heard about Anna. Is there anything I can do?**_

"So we're going Staten Island?" Carolyn questioned, and I realized that even though I'd told her about Anna, I hadn't mentioned any details about the case that Ross had given us.

"Yeah, um...the case Sean and Lauren were working last week. They found five bodies on the guy's property and so now it's officially a Major Case."

"As deemed by the commissioner?"

"Right again," I answered, my mind still pulling up images of Anna with Cutter at Lupo's wedding. She was a cute girl, and even though I hadn't really gotten the chance to talk to her, it looked like she and Cutter were enjoying themselves.

I wondered how he was taking the news.

Or does he even know yet?

I mean, the press hadn't gotten wind of the murder yet, or if they had, Ross had managed to stifle them for the time being.

Had anyone thought to call Cutter to let him know that his girlfriend had been killed?

I sent a second text to Mary.

_**Does Cutter know?**_

"I wonder why Ross called us," Carolyn said as I set my phone back on my lap.

"You mean instead of the Gorens?"

"Uh huh. I've gotten used to being number two, so it seems a little weird stepping into that one spot don't you think? I mean five bodies buried on this guy's property…this is going to make the news."

"Maybe they already got a call," I suggested.

My phone buzzed so I looked at the message, a response from Mary.

_**I'm going to need at least a keg of beer tonight and I don't want to stay at the Millennium alone. Can I crash at your place?**_

"Why would she be staying at the Millennium when John's gone?" Carolyn wondered aloud. "Unless the marshal killing isn't an isolated incident."

"I hate not being in the know," I mumbled as my phone buzzed again.

_**He knows. It's complicated. We'll talk tonight.**_

I typed a reply, telling Mary that she's always welcome to stay with us. I mean, she's practically my sister-in-law. And even if she weren't dating my brother, I'd still never turn her away.

"Well, let's see what we can do out on the island and then get back and get _in_ the know," Carolyn responded.

I couldn't agree more.

We spent the rest of the drive mostly in silence, but I held onto Carolyn's hand, and I couldn't help but feel Cutter's pain. And I know…he was just getting to know Anna, but _still_…

When we got to Westerleigh, Sean and Lauren were already there, supervising the cadaver dog teams as another pass was made over the property of the on-the-run suspect.

They'd gotten a lead last week that brought them out here, and it was completely by accident that they'd found additional bodies, but it definitely seemed as though their suspect was guilty of more than just killing a man on the subway in Manhattan.

"You've got to be kidding me," Sean said when he saw us approach. And despite my dark mood, I almost laughed at how much he sounds like his sister.

"Sorry, boys and girls. This comes from the top."

"I'm sure it does. Because we can't possibly be competent enough to solve the case now that there are more bodies, right?" Lauren said sharply.

"It's not personal," I said, looking at her curiously. "You know that."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever. Come on, Eames. Let's let the master detectives take the ball across the goal line after we ran it ninety-nine yards."

"Lauren..." Carolyn began quietly.

Lauren, who had turned to walk away from us, stopped and let out a long, frustrated breath. Then she turned back and looked at us apologetically.

"I'm sorry. It's not you. It's been a hell of a day."

"You're the second person to say that," I told her.

She looked around for a minute and then settled her gaze on me, and it suddenly hit me just how tired and red her eyes looked.

"You know," I said.

"You know?" she asked in surprise.

"Ross."

"Know what?" Sean asked.

"Bernard?" I questioned, ignoring Sean for the moment.

It was common knowledge that Lupo and Bernard were working a case with Mary, so did that mean that Anna's death was related to their case?

"He got a call," she said with a nod. "You know, that case."

"What case? Hayes..." Sean said in frustration.

"How much did Ross say?" Lauren questioned.

"Only the bottom line," I admitted. "I don't know anything else."

"And I don't know anything at all," Sean pointed out. "Come on, guys."

"I'm sorry, Eames. It's…I just don't want to say. I don't know a lot, but I know enough to be worried about him. About all of them."

"Bernard and Lupo," Carolyn stated. "And Mary, right? She asked to stay with us tonight."

"Good. Yes, them and Bobby and Alex, too."

"Bobby and Alex?" Sean and I asked at the same time.

And that's when it hit me why Carolyn and I had picked up _this_ case.

Because Bobby and Alex must be helping out on the marshal murder, which brought the total to four detectives and probably at least four marshals.

What the hell was going on with that case that warranted so much fire power?

"I don't want to say anything more," Lauren said. "I don't know exactly how much is confidential, and I don't want to be the one to spill the beans."

"Okay," I said with a nod.

"And this case...have at it. I don't care who solves it, you know? I'm tired of psychos roaming the streets. So just…catch him."

She held my gaze for a moment and I could literally feel her exhaustion and her worry.

"I hear you, kiddo."

Because I know what she means.

When a case hits close to home, it leaves everyone with a feeling of impotence and a sense of overwhelming, like none of the bad guys we've caught up to this point have made any difference.

Because there was always another one to take his place.

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

**Hayes POV**

* * *

><p>"You know, you could've told me."<p>

"Told you what?"

"Whatever the hell is going on. I know how to keep a secret."

I stared at Eames until he pulled his eyes away from the road long enough to look at me.

"What?" he questioned. "I do."

"I know," I said, letting him off the hook. "It's not that I don't trust you. It's just not my place to say anything. This is some seriously heavy shit."

"And now my sister's involved, so…"

"So feel free to ask her."

He grunted in annoyance and then fell silent as he drove us back to the 2-7.

I wasn't happy about the fact that the Logans had taken over our case, but at the same time it was almost a relief because my focus certainly wasn't on that.

It was more on the shell-shocked look on Mike Cutter's face.

And the horrified tone of voice of the beat cop who called to tell me he'd found Anna's body.

And the images in my mind of what had happened to her.

I didn't go to the scene.

I was going to, since Bernard was going, but he'd pulled me aside.

"_You don't need to come. Go home and get cleaned up. Your shift starts in a couple of hours."_

"_B., you don't have to protect me from anything. I'm a cop, too, remember?"_

"_I know that,"_ he said firmly. "_But you're not working this case, so there's no reason for you to be there."_

I held his gaze for a long time, and then I nodded.

"_Okay. But promise me you'll be careful."_

"_You think the killer's going to be hanging out at the scene?"_

"_I don't know where he might be. Or what he wants,_" I said in a rough whisper. _"I don't know hardly anything at all. So when I say be careful, you just need to promise me that you will. And mean it."_

I knew I was borderline hysterical, but there wasn't anything I could do about it.

Anna's murder was messing with my head, and it didn't help at all that I'd heard the word _Albanians_ mentioned in hushed tones.

I know a little bit about the Albanian mafia.

They're big in Detroit, and way back when, when I was interning at a law firm in Chicago, I helped out on a case involving the murder of two men who were killed in Detroit and then put on a bus to Chicago, and the bodies weren't discovered until the bus pulled in to Union Station.

While researching that case, I'd learned a few things about them.

For starters, they're the most feared organization in the country. Even the Sicilian Mafiosos are afraid of them, and those are some scary guys.

I typed up a witness statement from a Polish mobster who knew about the beef the Albanians had with the victims, and in it, he made mention of how ruthless and violent they can be…and this was a guy who'd seen the inside of Joliet _twice_ for murder.

I'd also studied the crime scene photos…the images of those two men were burned into my mind, and despite the fact that I've seen hundreds upon hundreds of crime scene photos since then, I've never forgotten those.

I also never forgot the fact that the first two officers who went to arrest the perpetrators were shot to death, and then tossed from the fourth floor window down onto their patrol car parked below.

There was no regard for the police. No respect for laws of any kind except their own.

"_Okay_," Bernard answered soothingly. "_I promise_."

So I'd left him, taking the car and heading for home while he rode in Mary's car with her and Lupo, on their way out to Queens.

That was more than four hours ago, and in the time since, Bernard had texted me half a dozen times.

The seventh one came in as we got out of the car in the parking garage.

_**I'm still at 1PP. You're okay?**_

I couldn't help but feel bad about my earlier reaction, which was certainly the root of Bernard's commitment to keeping in touch.

It was very unprofessional of me to be so visually affected by Anna's death.

But it was out of my control.

I kept thinking about the pictures of those two men on the back of the bus in Chicago.

And then of Anna Holly, and how she'd so callously been tossed onto the street, dressed only in her badge as though the killer was mocking the fact that she's law enforcement.

"Hey, are we okay?" I said to my partner as we walked across the garage.

"Yeah, we're fine. I shouldn't have put you in the position of breaking Bernard's confidence."

"Okay. Good, thanks. Um…can you give me just a minute so I can make a call?"

"Bernard?" he asked with a grin, and for the first time in what felt like days, I smiled, too.

"Yeah. I was a little on edge the last time I saw him, and I don't want him worrying about me."

"I'll wait by the elevator."

So I dialed Bernard's number, half expecting to have to offer my apology to his voicemail, but instead, he answered.

"Bernard."

"It's me. Bad time?"

"No," he said, his voice instantly softening. "Is everything okay?"

"It's fine. I just want to make sure your focus is where it should be."

"Which is…"

"On your case instead of on your basket case girlfriend."

"You're allowed to worry."

"Quietly. I can worry _quietly_. I can't have meltdowns at crime scenes."

"It's tough when it hits close to home," he said in understanding. "But this is just another case, okay? Nobody's got a hit on my head."

"So how's it coming? Any progress?"

"We're chasing our tails right now. You?"

"We got benched. Mike and Carolyn are out on Staten Island. Eames and I are heading back into the squad room right now."

I could hear Lupo say Bernard's name, so I said, "I'll let you go, B. I just wanted to touch base with you."

"If I get a break later, I'll call you. Maybe we can catch up for a bite."

"Sounds good. And my head's better now, but I still want you to be careful."

"And risk not coming home to you? You better believe I'm careful."

I hung up with him and walked slowly towards the elevator, lost in thought.

Bernard was right.

As horrifying and tragic as this case was, it was still just another case, and he'd work it like he always does.

And personally speaking, things with Bernard have been better than ever.

In fact, things were so good that I even called my mother on Sunday afternoon, with the intent of telling her about him.

"_Lauren, it's so good to hear from you! How long has it been? A month_?"

"_More like four,_" I replied. "_It was Christmas."_

I'd called her a couple of times since then, but I purposely did it at times when I knew I'd get her voicemail. That way I could update her without having to listen to her criticism and disappointment.

"_Right. I still wish you would've come home for the holidays_."

"_I am home, Mom."_

"_New York City isn't home to anyone_," she said haughtily, and I instantly regretted calling her.

But Bernard was sitting next to me, with his arm around me, and his fingers were lightly stroking my arm, and I felt so content and happy that I decided to ignore her jab and take another stab at having a conversation.

"_How are things at work?"_ I asked her.

"_Brutal, but that's how I like it. You remember Alana Skinner, don't you? She was a couple of years behind you in school."_

"_Yes, of course."_

How in the world could I forget her when she was a main topic of our conversations?

She actually _finished_ law school and now worked as an associate in my mother's firm.

"_She just made partner,"_ she told me excitedly. _"At thirty-three. Isn't that great, dear? And you know, that husband of hers is such a wonderful man…he found a nanny for the twins and then took her off to Paris for the weekend to celebrate."_

"_That's…great, Mom."_

"_Isn't it? Such a beautiful family_," she said wistfully. She sighed into the phone and then said, "_So what about you? Are you still…what's your title again? A murder cop?"_

"_Mom, you're a lawyer. You know damn well I'm a homicide detective."_

Bernard squeezed me gently, presumably to try to keep me from getting worked up, but my mother and I are old hands at this little game.

"_Homicide detective. Right. That just sounds so…masculine. You know, promise me that when you settle down it won't be with another cop. You need to find a nice man who'll be willing to stay home with the kids while you're out running around catching killers."_

And there we were.

In the exact spot where we inevitably ended up, every single time we spoke.

"_Don't date a cop,"_ I repeated through clenched teeth. _"Got it. Okay, Mom, I need to run."_

"_Okay, dear. You take care and don't wait so long to call me next time, okay?"_

I hung up with her and tossed the phone onto the coffee table before turning to Bernard, sliding my leg over his so that I was sitting on his lap.

"_Don't date a cop?"_ he asked me with amusement.

"_That's her theory. She wants me to date a man who'll stay home with the kids."_

"_Lauren..."_ he said gently as he tucked a piece of loose hair back behind my ear.

"_It's fine,"_ I said dismissively. "_I guess in my euphoric state I forgot how single-minded she can be. And I'm sorry I didn't mention you. I just…it's not that I…"_

"_That's okay_," he said with that smile of his that sends a tingling sensation down to my toes. "_I don't mind being your dirty little secret."_

And just like that, my mother was forgotten.

"Are we going up or what?" Eames called out to me, bringing my focus back to the present.

"Up," I agreed as I tucked my phone back into my pocket, and then I trotted the last several feet and got onto the elevator.

"Eames, Hayes!" Loo called out as soon as we walked into the squad room. "My office!"

"What'd you do?" Eames asked me under his breath as we weaved our way between the desks.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," I teased back.

"It's not _what_ you did, but what you're _about_ to do," Loo said, apparently either having heard our remarks or read our lips.

I'd never say it out loud, but she's almost like a mother in the sense that she just _knows_ things.

And I don't mean like _my_ mother.

Because I _like_ Loo.

She's a really good boss.

I followed Eames into her office and then we both stood in front of her desk while she closed the door and then sat down.

"I got a call from the chief. You lost your case?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I bet that just burns you up, doesn't it?" she said with a smirk. "You do all the running around and then Major Case gets the glory."

"No, ma'am. It's fine."

"Uh huh," she said disbelievingly. "Well, if it helps, I fought for you to keep it. But it was out of the chief's hands this time."

She shuffled around some papers on her desk and then looked up at me.

"You look like hell, Hayes. What's going on?"

"Oh, I was…I didn't get any sleep last night."

"Something tells me it wasn't the good kind of no-sleep either. Everything okay?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. I've got another case for you, since you two are suddenly free."

She held out a piece of paper, so I took it from her and then stood close to Eames so that he and I could both look it over.

"And I don't see Major Case stealing your thunder on this one," she added. "So dazzle me and wrap it up quickly, okay? Our numbers were down last month and I don't want May to look even worse."

"No problem there, Loo," Eames said with a cocky grin. "Me and Hayes are back in the house, so things will start getting done."

"Uh huh," she responded with amusement. "We'll see about that."

She dismissed us, so we left her office and headed back to the car.

"A floater. That's original. I wonder why killers take the time to dump bodies in the river," he mused.

I held out my hand for the keys, but he shook his head and went around to the driver's side.

"You're asleep on your feet, Hayes. I'm driving."

"They do it to get rid of evidence," I commented, choosing not to fight about who was going to drive. "Didn't they teach you that at the academy?"

We bickered all the way to Battery Park where a crowd was gathered on the pier for the water taxi.

We badged the uniformed officers and made our way to the end of the pier where a body was laid out, underneath a sheet.

"The ME's on his way," one of the officers said.

I knelt down and pulled back the sheet, exposing the bloated, discolored face of our victim.

"ID?"

"Nope. Hard to say if the wallet worked itself free from his pocket, or if the doer took it out, but there's nothing on him."

"What do you think, Eames?" I asked as I did a visual inspection of the corpse.

"TOD? Yesterday. Or Saturday. I don't think longer than that. He's in too good shape."

"Uh huh," I agreed. I slipped on some gloves and did a quick pat-down, but I didn't find anything.

I looked for another moment and then stood up, looking at my partner as I said, "Okay, so where do you want to start?"

"Well, we need a name," he said. "So let's get a picture, and then head back and run him through missing persons. By then, maybe the ME will have something for us to go on."

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>Monday morning was abysmal.<p>

I didn't even know Anna Holly and yet she was one of us.

One of Mary's team.

Cutter's new girlfriend.

Morale was low and tempers were high and everyone was running on adrenaline.

"_Nothing from the ATM footage in Kew Gardens_?" Bernard asked Lupo.

"_I just got it. It's going to take me a few minutes."_

"_That's great. A few minutes for the killer to crawl further into the woodwork."_

"_What, you want me to magically cue it up to the exact right time? If it's so damn easy, you do it."_

And then me and Bobby.

"_Where's the printout with her LUDs?"_

"_I gave it to you."_

"_If you'd given it to me, then I wouldn't be asking for it."_

"_If you didn't have so much crap spread all over your desk, then maybe you'd be able to find it."_

And then Ross.

"_People, what've we got? Nothing? Seriously? The woman was found four hours ago and we still have no idea what happened? It's a good thing we're Major Case because I'd hate to see what mere mortals would do with this thing."_

And of course, Mary.

She was taking this harder than any of us.

And she was taking it out on her team.

"_Why don't we know who this third party is, huh? The witness was supposed to be properly vetted before being brought into the program."_

"_Inspector, we don't think…"_

"_That's right. You don't think,"_ she interrupted. "_For some reason, you need everything spelled out in big block letters, but I'll tell you one thing. The bad guys know how to think. And they're probably already working on the next thing so you just keep sitting there with your thumbs up your asses, _not_ thinking, and we'll wait and see what they do next so that we can stumble around like idiots after them and _not_ catch them."_

And now it was noon, and we still had nothing.

"Let's go see how Liz is coming," I said quietly to Bobby.

"Oh, you want me to come with you?" he replied.

"Bobby…" I said on a sigh.

"Come on."

I poked my head in the conference room to let Mary know that we were heading to the morgue and then I met Bobby at the elevator.

"I'm sorry I've been so…"

"Short-tempered?"

"Bitchy is what I was going to say."

"Well, I haven't exactly been Mr. Congeniality either. I just…I can't get it out of my head. The idea that she was pulled from her bed and beaten and then shot in the head…that kind of thing just isn't supposed to happen."

"I know. We're supposed to save people. And this time…we weren't even close. We still have no idea where to look."

"Well, Kew Gardens…that's definitely Albanian territory."

"I know, which almost makes me think it's not them. Why be so blatant about it?"

"It's a message. They're not afraid of the police. And they want the other marshals to know that they can get to anybody."

"Maybe," I hummed thoughtfully. "But so what's their plan? Keep kidnapping marshals until they find one who knows where this other girl is? I mean, why pick Anna?"

"I think they spotted her on the night of the exchange. They must have realized they couldn't get to the witness at that moment, but they would've seen the three inspectors involved."

"Anna, McInnis, and Mary."

"Right. Which, if my theory is correct, means we know the next targets."

"I don't know about you, but I like the idea of both of them spending the next however long right where they are. Inside of 1PP."

We both fell quiet until we were in the hallway outside of the Liz's autopsy suite.

"I really am sorry," I said, touching him lightly on the arm. "I shouldn't have been snapping at you."

"It's okay," he said immediately, and then he glanced in both directions before pulling me into a hug. "And I probably could stand to get some of the crap off my desk."

I chuckled at him as I relaxed against him, appreciating the comforting feel of his arms around me.

"Did you ever find the LUDs?"

"Yeah. I'm about halfway through them. Nothing stands out yet, but I'll finish when we go back. How are the financials coming?"

"She earned a government salary and that's how she lived. Nothing excessive, nothing unusual…"

"So we're on the right track with the Albanian angle."

"I think so, yes."

"Okay," he said, squeezing me closer for just a moment and then letting me go. "Let's see what Liz found. Because you know it's something."

But it wasn't.

She didn't find anything.

Well, not really.

Although she was able to confirm the time of death, which was not what we expected.

"Twelve to fourteen hours ago."

"So…between ten and midnight?" I asked in surprise. "Are you sure?"

Liz rolled her eyes at me and then reached for her notes.

"Definitely. So you can quit beating yourselves up about not searching for her fast enough. She was probably dead within minutes of being taken. She never had a chance."

Bobby and I stared at each other for a long minute as each of us pondered the meaning of this latest information.

She was killed almost immediately.

So why take her at all?

Why not just kill her in the apartment?

Surely it would've been less risky for the perpetrator, rather than leaving the building with an unconscious woman in tow.

And why leave Cutter alive?

Was he really considered so inconsequential?

And more importantly, did the fact that she was killed quickly mean that she gave up information?

Although according to Mary, Anna didn't have information.

Or at least not the information we thought they were looking for.

But had she given up details on her other team members?

"A lot of the beating was done after she was shot," Liz continued. "Some of the bruising isn't fully developed, indicating that the blood was pumping at a greatly decreased rate at that time."

"So she was beaten as she was dying," I remarked, trying hard not to picture it.

"Yes. And you were right about the blow to the head, Detective," she said as she looked at Bobby.

Then she set down her notes, choosing instead to grab a pair of gloves from the counter. She put them on as she moved toward the body on the table, and then she pulled back the sheet from the woman's head.

"See here?" she asked, pointing to the side of the skull. "The injury is consistent with impact from the corner of a solid object, something like that desk. It's deep…it would've most likely rendered her unconscious. The blood was just starting to clot at the time of death, so I'll be able to narrow down that window a little more for you once I conduct a few more tests."

"Post-mortem coagulation?" Bobby asked her. "It hasn't been too long?"

"I'm hoping not," she said with a nod, and if she was surprised by the fact that he was familiar with that particular type of testing, she didn't show it. "I'm counting on being able to activate the platelets for an accurate determination of her specific clotting rate."

"That'll let you state the time of death with more accuracy?" I asked.

"That's the idea. Or at the very least it'll tell us how long she lived after sustaining that blow to the head," she said. Then she covered the victim's head again and stepped away from the table. "So is it just me, or does this one have a really creepy feel to it?"

"It's not just you," I agreed quickly. "It's safe to say that tensions are pretty high."

"Do you have any suspects?"

"Not exactly," Bobby answered vaguely.

This case was extremely complicated, considering the level of secrecy surrounding it.

Or at least, potentially.

The whole thing had my mind going in circles, thinking about what we know, what we think, and what we're still clueless about.

And we could only talk about some aspects with some people.

Unfortunately, Liz wasn't one of those people. Or at least, not officially.

"So you weren't able to get anything from the body?" I asked, shifting the focus of our conversation slightly, back into safe territory. "No skin cells or fibers?"

"Not on my first pass," she admitted tiredly. "But I'm not done."

"Okay. Thanks," Bobby told her, and then the two of us headed for the door.

"Alex," she called out. When we turned around, her face was full of concern. "I know that I don't have all of the facts, but this is obviously something big. And something very dangerous. Be careful, okay?"

_Be careful._

I had a feeling that was going to be our credo until this case was solved.

Because Liz was definitely right about that creepy feeling.

And maybe it was because Anna was taken from her home, somewhere that was supposed to be a safe haven.

"I wonder how Cutter's doing," I mused when we returned to the squad room.

"I can't even imagine. I don't _want_ to imagine," he said. "But maybe we'll go by and see him when we finish up here."

"You think he's at the office?"

"You don't?"

I shrugged and then nodded, deciding that he was probably right, and then the two of us headed for the conference room.

It was empty except for Mary, and she was sitting at the table with her head in her hands.

"Are you okay?" I asked quietly, gesturing for Bobby to close the door.

"How could I let this happen, Alex?" she asked without looking up. "This is on me. She was my responsibility. I should've been able to find her. I don't know, I think I wasted too much time thinking and not enough time actually looking. I mean, she…"

"She was dead almost immediately after she was abducted," I interrupted gently. "Probably before you even got to her apartment. There wasn't anything you could've done differently."

"She was…are you sure?" she asked, finally looking up, her eyes moving back and forth between me and Bobby.

"Liz is rarely ever wrong. Not about TOD," Bobby assured her. "Right now, she's stating between ten and twelve, but she's hoping to narrow it down even more with some additional tests."

"But…that doesn't make sense. Why take her and kill her right away?"

Bobby and I sat down at the table across from her, but before either of us could say anything, Mary's phone rang.

She pulled it out and looked at the display and then she whipped her eyes up to ours.

"It's Anna's phone," she said, her voice bordering on hysterical. "It's him. He's calling me from her phone. Get a trace!"

Of course, I was halfway to the door before she mentioned the word _trace_, planning to do exactly that. I flung the door open and barked out instructions to the nearest detective.

Mary held the phone up, waiting as long as she could before answering it, and then she finally clicked on the button, answering it on speaker.

"Inspector Shannon."

"No kidding. I called you, remember?"

"Maybe I was hoping you'd reciprocate. You don't feel like giving me a name?"

"I don't think a name is going to help you much, Mary."

At his use of her first name, Mary's eyes flickered over to mine, the worry evident on her face.

"Yeah, but it'll keep me from calling you something disparaging like asshole or coward or mother-fu…"

"Coward?" he interrupted.

"That's the one that bothers you?"

The man laughed and said, "Nothing about you bothers me. You're a scared little girl, just like Inspector Holly. You know she cried, right? And she begged. For her life and for the life of the dumb sap in bed with her."

"But you killed her anyway. Why?"

"Why not?" he replied flippantly.

"Keep him going," Bobby mouthed, moving his finger in a circular motion to prompt Mary to keep talking because his callous response had silenced her.

"Mary," the man said. "You know what I want."

"And you know I can't give it to you."

"You can. And you will."

"Or what?"

"Or you'll be last," he said, his voice dropping to a menacing, gravelly pitch.

"Last?"

"I won't kill you until after I'm done with the others. I want you to see the pain you've caused. Daniels…Dunn…McInnis…"

"Good luck with that," she fired back, despite his taunt of knowing the others' names.

Of course, he has Anna's phone so that could explain it, but still.

"I think I've shown that I don't need luck."

"Yeah, well, it won't be so easy next time, I can promise you that," Mary said.

"Uh huh. But you interrupted me," he admonished. "I wasn't done. I'm not just talking about what I'll do to the marshals. You've got cops involved, too."

"Cops?" she asked, shifting her eyes nervously to mine.

"You think I don't know a cop when I see one? White guy, dark hair, leather jacket…black guy, shorter and wearing a long overcoat…they were both with beautiful women, too, which makes my job even more fun."

"But they don't…"

"Then there was the tall guy," he continued. "Six-four maybe…him and another woman. She's a cop, too. Probably his partner. You know, she resembles Anna just a little bit, don't you think?"

I had a sick feeling in my stomach as I met Bobby's gaze from across the table.

I could understand that Lupo and Bernard might have been seen. They've been working the case for a week.

Bobby and I only got involved last night.

So if he saw us…and Connie and Lauren...

"You were there, outside of Anna's apartment," Mary stated, finishing my thought.

"Very good, Inspector. Yes, I was there. Does that help you catch me? Or does it show you how serious I am about getting what I want?"

I caught sight of Detective Knight gesturing at me from outside of the conference room, so I went through the doorway and took the paper he was holding out to me.

_**Cell tower triangulation shows Kew Gardens**_

I nodded at Knight and took the paper to Bobby, showing it to him as Mary kept talking.

"What am I supposed to do? Bring her to you on a silver platter? We don't work like that."

"You need to start working like that, or your list of cohorts you can call when you need help is going to get substantially shorter," he said confidently. He paused for a moment and said, "So did you finish the trace? Because all you had to do was ask. I'm on Austin in Kew Gardens, about three blocks from where I tossed that bitch out of my car. Are you going to come and get me, Mary?"

"Yeah, sure. Wait for me. We'll have a nice little chat."

"Maybe next time. I'll call you in a day. Get me what I want, or you won't like what I do."

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Liz POV**

* * *

><p>I spent more time with Anna Holly than I probably should have.<p>

Well, if that's possible.

Personally, I'd like to take all the time I need on each and every case, examining the victims until I find something useful.

But it doesn't always work like that.

I mean, there are just too many.

But I did spend an extra two hours with the inspector.

And my coagulation test worked.

I was able to determine that death had occurred roughly thirty minutes after the head injury.

Which meant that she hit her head on the desk and then her killer got her out of the apartment and to another location where he shot her, all within half an hour.

Because it was my understanding that no evidence had been found to indicate that she was shot in the vicinity of her building.

It kind of blew the detectives' theory that the killer wanted information from her, because he obviously didn't try for very long.

Unless maybe she gave him what he needed.

It was hard to say.

And really, it wasn't my place to say at all.

I trusted that Alex and Bobby would figure it out.

By the time I finally called for my assistant to move Anna into storage, Dr. Jenkins popped into my autopsy suite.

"I've got a family emergency, Liz. Can you take over a floater for me? The detectives are probably going to be here any minute, and I really hate to throw you into the line of fire considering I'm nowhere near done, but…"

"Sure," I said quickly. "Is everything alright?"

"My daughter's at Bellevue with a possible broken ankle. And my wife's in the middle of a surgery across town, so…"

"Go. I've got it."

"Thanks, Liz. He's on the table, but I haven't done much. And like I said, the 2-7's breathing down my neck…"

"Jenkins. Go."

He waved and then hustled out the door, so I slipped through the connecting doors, into his autopsy suite.

The corpse was on the table, prepped for exam, so I gloved up and got to work.

But five minutes later, the intercom buzzed.

"Dr. Jenkins, have you seen Dr. Rodgers?"

"It's me, Pam. What can I do for you?"

"Oh. Okay, um…there's a call for you on line three. I didn't get a name because I think it's personal."

Personal? On the work phone?

"What makes you think that?" I asked as I took off my gloves and looked at my cell phone. It was in good, working order and I didn't have any missed calls.

"The caller just asked for Elizabeth Rodgers. No _doctor_ or anything. Should I take a message?"

"No, it's fine. I'll take it. Thanks."

I walked over to the phone and pushed the button and said, "Rodgers."

"Elizabeth Rodgers?"

"Yes," I answered.

Silence.

And then, "Did you used to be Elizabeth Chambers?"

"Um…who is this?"

"Are you Elizabeth Chambers from Washington Heights?"

"No," I said firmly. "Who's asking?"

"It doesn't matter. My mistake. I'm sorry to take up your time."

The caller hung up, leaving me staring blankly at the phone in my hand.

What the hell was that about?

For some reason, I suddenly felt slightly nauseous and a little bit light-headed.

Maybe because I _am_ the former Elizabeth Chambers from Washington Heights.

But I haven't used that name in over twenty-five years.

So what was that call about?

High school reunion committee?

_Sure, Liz. That's who it was. The former class president is trying to track you down…_

"Dr. Jenkins, what've you…Liz?"

I looked up to see Hayes enter the room, followed closely by Eames.

"Ah…the 2-7 detectives who were breathing down Jenkins' neck," I said with a smirk, brushing off my concern about the phone call.

"We weren't," Eames denied. "It's just that…"

"No ID," I said with a nod. "I'm with you. But I just took over so I can't tell you anything yet. But feel free to hang around and observe."

It wasn't an invitation I threw out to everyone, but I like them.

And honestly, I'd rather not be alone with my thoughts right now.

So Eames and Hayes each found a spot, close but not too close, and then watched while I got to work.

"You can talk," I said after a few minutes.

"It doesn't bother you?"

"Not at all."

"Oh. Okay. So how's Jeremy doing?"

I relaxed and fell into an easy rhythm, talking about my stepson while performing the autopsy.

Although I left out the part about Jeremy walking in on me and Danny Sunday morning.

That was a little _too_ personal.

Although I might've brought it up if it had just been Hayes, but I wasn't about to tell Eames.

After finishing his exams on Friday, Jeremy decided to drive up to see his brother.

Well, and his mother, too, but mostly the visit was for Aaron.

We were expecting him to come home on Sunday afternoon.

"_We only have a few hours before Jeremy gets here_," Danny said to me as I stood in front of the stove.

I was making breakfast, something I do as a treat on Sundays.

Or at least, on Sundays when we're not working.

The other days of the week, breakfast is a quick and dirty affair, usually involving some type of pre-packaged, supposedly healthy and energy-giving food.

But I actually enjoy cooking, so taking the time to leisurely prepare a meal while dressed only in one of Danny's shirts is a relaxing and gratifying experience for me.

And usually, Danny likes to watch.

And keep me company.

But yesterday morning, he was feeling particularly amorous and he couldn't keep his hands to himself.

Not that I minded.

Not at all, in fact.

So when he came up behind me and started kissing my neck while his hands roamed freely beneath my shirt, I simply turned off the stove and set the skillet aside and then I let him have his way with me.

Right there in the kitchen.

I was sitting on the edge of the counter and Danny was standing in front of me. I had my legs wrapped around him and he had my hands in his, pinned back against the cabinets, and we were both so close…just _right there_…

And that's when Jeremy came home.

And I don't just mean he walked in the front door.

I mean he came into the _kitchen_ and we never heard a thing until he said, "_Whoa! Oh my God. I'm sorry." _

My eyes flew open and I saw him as he ducked his head and turned around quickly, going right back out the kitchen door.

Fortunately for me and for him, I still had Danny's shirt on, but _still_…

"_I'll come back later_!" he called out from the living room.

"_Just…wait. Give us a minute_," Danny yelled back and then he looked at me and both of us erupted into laughter.

"_You know, I never thought I'd get busted at my age_," I said. "_Have we just damaged him for life?"_

"_I'm pretty sure he knows we have sex."_

"_Yeah, but…"_ I began, trailing off as laughter rolled through me again. "_Well, thank God it was your ass he saw and not mine."_

It took us several minutes to pull ourselves together, and I sent Danny up to our room to bring me a pair of pants, and when we finally went into the living room, Jeremy was on the couch, mindlessly flipping through channels on the TV.

"_I'm sorry_," he said again. "_I should've knocked_."

"_I'm glad you didn't_," I replied.

He looked up at me inquisitively, and Danny flashed me a confused look, too.

"_I mean, I'm glad you feel at home enough here _not_ to knock_," I explained. "_That's what we want_."

"_Yeah, okay. I just…I guess I should've texted or something to let you know I was coming back early. It never occurred to me that…you know."_

"_We'd be doing something in the kitchen other than eating_?"

"_Yeah_," he said, finally relaxing enough to smile. "_Although I guess it's nice to know that even old people can have a sex life."_

"_Ha ha,"_ I snorted, and then I ran my hand over his head affectionately. "_But seriously, breakfast is almost ready. Are you hungry?"_

"_I'm not eating in the kitchen,"_ he joked. "_Never again_."

"_Well, you're not eating in the living room_," I told him. "_When you get hungry enough, you'll get over it."_

It only took him all of fifteen minutes.

By the time I announced that breakfast was ready, he and Danny came into the kitchen and sat down at the table.

"_So…not that I mind, but what happened that made you come back early? Is everything okay?_"

"_Mom asked me to leave. She said I was distracting Aaron and that he had homework he needed to finish today and that he didn't have time to waste hanging out with me."_

"_She said that_?" Danny asked sharply.

"_Almost verbatim. I think she's decided that I'm too much trouble."_

"_Her loss,"_ I said.

"_Well, I did cause you guys quite a bit of trouble over the past couple of weeks."_

"_You didn't cause it. You just got caught up in the middle of it."_

"_No, I need to take responsibility for my part in it. The partying and the drugs…it was a bad idea and it made me vulnerable."_

"_Is that what Dr. Skoda told you?"_

"_Sort of. But he also said that I need to start taking definitive steps toward my future. He thinks it'll help me put this whole thing behind me."_

"_That's a good idea,"_ Danny agreed.

"_You think so?"_

"_I do."_

"_Okay, good, because I have a favor to ask."_

Danny looked at me briefly and then back at Jeremy.

"_What is it?"_

"_Let me do an internship with the NYPD."_

"_We don't offer internships."_

"_I know. But think what a great experience it'll be for me. I'll get to be around people doing the exact thing I want to do. And I'll do whatever needs to be done. Take messages. Get coffee. Empty the trash. Anything."_

His excitement was catching, and I bit back a smile while I watched Danny ponder his proposal.

"_You won't get paid_," he said at last, and Jeremy and I both smiled, knowing that he was going to let him do it.

"_I know. I don't need any money. I've got this great old man who lets me live with him rent-free."_

"_And you need to quit calling him your old man_," Danny retorted with a grin.

"_Done. So…it's a yes?"_

"_What do your grades look like?"_

"_Um…they haven't posted the finals yet, so I don't know for sure. But good, I think."_

"_I'll make you a deal. If you finish the year with a 3.0 or better, you can work at 1PP over the summer. If it's any lower than that, I want you to take a couple of classes so that you can bring it up."_

Now that last part, I shared with Eames and Hayes. The part about the potential job and the deal.

"So when will he find out?" Hayes asked me.

"Supposedly, all of the grades should be posted by tomorrow afternoon, so we'll see. Jeremy feels pretty confident about it."

"If he managed to do well on his finals, even after everything that happened in the week leading up to them…that'll be pretty incredible," Eames said.

"I agree. But he's a smart kid. We'll see how it goes," I said.

The computer on the far table pinged, alerting me to the fact that it had found some sort of match.

"This might be your lucky day," I said as I took off my gloves and crossed the room. I bent down and looked at the monitor. "Jenkins put this guy's DNA into the system first thing, even though he didn't have a chance to start the exam."

"And we got a hit?" Eames said excitedly as he and Hayes came up behind me.

"Preliminary match," I amended. "It'll take longer to get something definitive, but yeah…this might be your guy. It's definitely a place to start."

"Who is he?"

"Derek Gilmore. The hit came from our military database. He was honorably discharged from the Coast Guard last November."

"I knew you'd come through for us," Eames said with a grin as I switched systems and input Gilmore's name so that I could bring up an address.

"Hey, it was dumb luck. Not like the time I ID'd a guy from his custom-made Nikes," I said. Then I smirked and added, "Now _that_ was genius."

I hit the print key and then handed them the information sheet and they were on their way.

"I'll call you after I finish up," I called out after them.

Hayes waved over her head and yelled back, "Thanks, Liz!"

I watched the door close behind them and took a deep breath and then gloved up and went back to work.

And now that I was alone again, there wasn't much to keep my mind from going back to that previous phone call.

Because Elizabeth Rodgers might be an all-around good girl who can put a smile on detectives' faces, but Elizabeth Chambers…she's done some things I'm not particularly proud of.

And it made me wonder which past sin was coming back to get me.

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**Connie POV**

* * *

><p>I looked up from the summation I've been working on all morning and I saw Mike sitting at his desk, staring blankly across the room.<p>

_He shouldn't be here_, I thought.

But then I figured that if I were him, this is where I'd be, too.

Because what else was he supposed to do?

Sit around his apartment?

Alone?

I glanced down at the shiny new wedding band on my finger, nestled against Lupo's grandmother's ring, and I couldn't help but feel a little guilty.

The guilt is misplaced, I'm sure, but it's still there.

Because Mike and I used to bemoan the fact that we were alone _together_.

And then I found Lupo, and it turned in to Mike being alone _alone_.

I'd thought that maybe Anna would be the one for him, and now this…

And of course I know that Anna was the victim here, but so was Mike, and I feel so bad for him.

I pushed back from my desk and crossed the room, coming to a stop in his office doorway.

"Can I come in?" I asked.

It took him a full five seconds to bring his eyes to mine.

"My door's always open. You know that. What's on your mind?"

"What's on _my_ mind?" I repeated, moving over to the chair across from him and taking a seat. "I want to know what's on _your_ mind. How are you holding up?"

He stayed quiet and for a minute, I thought he was going to shut me out, but then he tossed his pen on his desk and sat back heavily in his chair.

"I think I'm still in shock," he admitted. "It's all like…a bad dream or something."

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"I already gave Lupo and Bernard my statement."

"I mean, do you want to _talk_," I said, deciding that maybe I needed to poke at him a little in order to get him to open up. "Come on, Mike. Your girlfriend was _killed_."

"She wasn't my girlfriend," he mumbled. "We…she…"

He trailed off and brought his eyes to mine before adding, "Do you really want to hear this?"

"We're friends," I said with a nod.

"We're friends who don't talk about our sex lives," he pointed out.

"Well, maybe we should," I said nonchalantly, pushing aside whatever unease I might feel about discussing such matters with my boss.

I had to remind myself that he _is_ my friend, and he's hurting right now.

He sighed heavily and then stood up and picked up a baseball from his desk. He flipped it up into the air and then caught it, repeating this several times before he began to speak.

"We had fun at your wedding. And that night, I took her back to my place. Before we could…you know…um…well, _before_, she asked me about you."

"About me?"

"She said that she picked up on something. From me, I mean. She asked if you and I used to date. Of course, I told her no, that we're just friends and colleagues, and so then she asked if I'd _wanted_ to date you. And I…couldn't lie."

He finished his statement with his back to me, but then he turned around and looked at me apologetically.

"And I know…I'm supposed to pretend like I didn't feel anything for you, but I did, so…sue me," he finished with a small smile.

"You didn't have to tell _her_ that," I told him, matching his smile as I fought off my embarrassment. "It's in the past. And I'm sure that didn't help with…you know…the mood."

"No, it didn't. She went home. But then we went out again Saturday, and she apologized for leaving. She said she understood what it was like to want someone you can't have and…"

He stopped abruptly, as though he realized he said more than he meant to, but then he shrugged and continued.

"And anyway, we ended up at her place that night."

I nodded while he looked at me expectantly, although I'm not sure what kind of response he was hoping for.

"Okay, so…"

"You know, I'm not sure if this is a good idea," he interrupted. He stared at me for a moment longer and then started tossing the baseball into the air again.

"It's just…this is awkward. Don't you think it's awkward?" he continued.

"No."

"Yes, you do. You don't want to hear about this."

"I do. I want to help you get through this and talking about it is the first step. Unless…you know, if you'd rather talk to a guy. I mean, I'm sure Lupo would…"

"No," he said quickly.

"Okay, so tell me what happened yesterday."

"I didn't finish telling you what happened Saturday night."

"Oh, well, I think I figured it out. I mean, I don't need _details_," I said.

"Nothing happened," he said. "She changed her mind. I went home."

"Oh."

"And okay, so I _didn't_ go home. I mean, I was…frustrated and…"

He trailed off and then grabbed his baseball glove from the side table. He put in on and then started slamming the ball into the mitt, doing it harder and harder each time.

I didn't need him to fill in the blanks for me.

I mean, for two nights in a row he'd been on the cusp of having sex and then both times she'd put on the brakes.

And Mike is too much of a gentleman to ever try to persuade a woman to follow through, but that doesn't mean it wasn't hard on him _physically_.

I almost decided to let him out of this conversation, but he finished it before I could say anything.

"I went to Flynn's. I picked up a woman and I took her home with me," he stated, confirming my suspicion. "And then yesterday afternoon, Anna called me and asked me to come over. She said she wanted to explain what was going on with her. So I went, and she told me that she…she's not…"

He paced in front of his desk for a minute, still popping the ball into the glove, and then he stopped and looked at me and said, "She's not into men."

"She's…what?" I asked dumbly, taken by surprise by his admission. "Then why did she go out with you in the first place?"

"She _wanted_ to like men," he answered. "Or at least, that's what she said. I guess she was still in denial. Or sort of, anyway. I don't know."

"But last night you were…"

"She said that maybe being with the right man would make the difference," he said on a sigh.

"Oh."

"Yeah. It sounds crazy now that I'm saying it out loud."

"Not crazy. It sounds like she was just confused. And if she had previous bad experiences…"

"Yeah," he said, dropping down in the chair next to me.

I watched him for a moment while he stared at the floor, and then he looked up at me and said, "I heard a noise outside of the bedroom. I started to get up, but I think she thought I was just stalling. I mean, we'd had two false starts already, and…well, she said that she was sure it was nothing, and then she started kissing me again and…"

I couldn't help but picture the scene.

Before, I'd just assumed they were sleeping when the intruder came in, but they were actually…getting around to doing other things.

"Anyway, the next thing I knew, a man said Anna's name, and I turned around, and he was right there, at the edge of the bed. He hit me across the face, and then again on the forehead, and that's it. That's all I remember until I woke up and…she was gone."

"You know that none of this is your fault," I said quietly.

"I should've checked out the noise when I first heard it."

"And then he probably would've clocked you when you were in the hall instead of in the bed."

"Right," he said with a nod. "Because I'm not a cop."

"I didn't mean that."

"I know you didn't. I just…I mean, why didn't he kill me? He could have, pretty easily."

"I don't know," I admitted.

He leaned his head back in the chair and then tilted his head sideways to look at me.

"I don't either. But I'm okay, Connie. I feel bad about what happened…really, _really_ bad…but if you think that I was in love with her, or that I saw some kind of future for us, that's not the case. She was just a really nice girl."

I nodded thoughtfully in response, not exactly sure what to say at this point.

"Is it too early for a drink?" he asked me.

"Neither of us has slept in more than twenty-four hours," I replied as I got up from the chair. "I don't think it matters what time it is."

I walked around his desk and opened the bottom drawer where he keeps a bottle of bourbon and two glasses.

I'd never asked him why he had only two glasses, or if anyone but me ever used that second glass, because I think I know the answer.

So instead of thinking about that, I uncapped the bottle and filled each glass with a healthy amount of Michter's.

"Did you tell Lupo about what was going on between the two of you?" I asked once I'd handed him his glass and then sat down in the chair again.

"What? No. I don't see how that's relevant to anything," he said immediately. He took a sip of bourbon and then closed his eyes and said, "But he's your husband, so…of course you can tell him what we talked about."

"I don't mean the details. I mean the fact that she was a lesbian. Or that she wasn't sure. I mean, they're looking into her personal life, trying to find a boyfriend or something. But maybe they need to be looking for a girlfriend."

"She said she wasn't seeing anyone."

"That doesn't mean there's not an ex. Mike…you know you have to offer full disclosure. It might help them find her killer."

"This wasn't a job done by a bitter former lover. It was a hit."

I raised an eyebrow at him while I brought the glass to my lips and he slowly nodded in concession.

"You're right. I'll…um…I'll call him."

A knock on the door caught our attention, and we both looked over to see Lupo and Bernard standing outside.

"Or maybe you already used ESP," he said as he waved them in.

He smiled when he said it, and I was glad to see it. And the attempt at a joke was another good sign.

"Sorry to interrupt, Counselor," Lupo said when he opened the door, his gaze shifting quickly from Mike to me, then down to the glass in my hand.

For some reason, I felt guilty even though I wasn't doing anything wrong. Maybe because Mike admitted to me that he was interested in me.

Apparently interested enough to confess it to his date.

And yet here I was, behind closed doors with him, drinking, when my husband arrived.

But still…this is where I _work_.

And Mike's just my boss.

And we have a drink from time to time, and if any situation warranted a shot of bourbon, I'd say today was the day.

And I'm not doing anything wrong, so…

"Detectives. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Mike asked after tossing back the rest of his drink.

"We just wanted to see how you're doing," Bernard answered.

"I'm more interested in how you're doing. Any luck yet?"

"No, but she led a very complex and secretive life, so it's hard to say how long it'll take to sort through everything."

"Secretive," Mike said with a nod. "Yeah, I was just getting ready to call you."

"Did you remember something?" Lupo asked.

"I left out something that Connie thinks may be pertinent."

"You left something out? You mean on purpose?" Bernard asked.

"This is my _life_, Detective," Mike fired back. "And I really don't like the idea of the two of you going through it like I'm some victim, okay? _Anna_ was killed. Anna, not me. I just happened to be there at the time. I was the guy who stood by and let it happen."

"Mike," I began, but Lupo waved me off.

"I understand how you feel," he said quietly as he moved closer to Mike. "Believe me. I'm the guy who handed off his fiancé to her kidnapper, remember?"

"That was different," Mike stammered. "And I…I should've done _some_thing."

"If you'd done anything more, you'd be dead, too," Lupo responded. "This thing was planned out, but you were unexpected. If he hadn't been able to knock you out, I have no doubt that he would've just shot you. He wasn't going to let you get in his way."

He settled his hand on Mike's shoulder, and I couldn't help but feel a fresh wave of love and pride in Lupo.

I'd completely misread him.

He wasn't jealous when he came in here.

He was _worried_.

Mike nodded slowly, accepting Lupo's statement, and then he said, "Anna was struggling with her sexuality. I know you're looking into previous boyfriends, but you might want to check for previous girlfriends, too."

"Okay," Bernard said with a nod. "Good, that might help. Now, the Gorens have been going through her LUDs, but they haven't found anything out of the ordinary, either on her home phone or on her cell. But they did notice something they wanted us to ask you about."

"Go ahead."

"Did she ever call you? Because there were calls from your phone to hers, but none from hers to yours."

"Yeah, sure she did. Several times, in fact."

"During the work day? Like maybe from the office?"

"Sure, but other times, too. Yesterday afternoon," he said, looking at me in confusion. He'd just told me how she called him to apologize and invite him over.

"Did you ever see her use a second cell phone?"

"No, but…you know, we only had a few dates. Three, and then the wedding, and then dinner the next night…I don't know that I even paid attention to her cell phone, other than the fact that she kept it in her purse. I thought that was strange, considering most every woman I know in that line of work keep their phones in their pocket."

"Okay," Bernard said. "We'll keep looking, and…"

"Oh, and she used a payphone," Mike interrupted suddenly. "Twice, actually, which I thought was strange since she had the cell."

"Good," Lupo said quickly as he pulled out his notebook. "Where were you?"

"Friday night, at the Millennium. She said she wanted some air, so we walked through the lobby to go outside, and there's a bank of phones there. She asked me to give her a minute, and I saw her use the one furthest from the front desk. That was the first time I saw her do it. It was…I don't know. After the ceremony but before everyone started leaving. Eight-thirty? Nine o'clock?"

"Did you ask her who she was calling? I mean, that's kind of odd, stopping to use a payphone while on a date."

"I thought so, too, but she said she just had to check in with the office and that her cell signal wasn't very good."

"Okay. When else?"

"The next night. Saturday. We met for dinner, and when I got to the restaurant, she was in the back, on the payphone. She said the same thing that night."

"That she needed to check in at work, but that her cell wasn't working?" Lupo clarified after Mike provided him with the name of the restaurant.

"Uh huh. So either she had the worst provider in the world, or…"

"Or she was making a call that she didn't want to come back on her."

"That's kind of jumping the gun, don't you think? I mean, it's just a payphone," I said.

"Right. And how many people do you know who use those things?" Bernard asked me. "People with cell phones, I mean."

"Good point," I conceded. "Okay, so what does that do for you?"

"Well, it means we can pull the LUDs from those payphones and find out who she was talking to."

"I see a warrant application in my future," I replied. I killed the bourbon and then set the glass down on Mike's desk and headed for the doorway. "Come with me, gentlemen. I'll get you the warrant."

"It pays to have an in with an ADA, doesn't it?" Bernard said with a grin as he followed me to the door.

"I'm sure that's why he married me."

"Not just for easy access to search warrants," Lupo said. I looked back over my shoulder and raised an eyebrow, and he grinned at me and said, "Wire taps, too. And arrest warrants."

"Uh huh. I guess the honeymoon's over," I joked.

And then I kind of felt bad because we'd all just shifted gears, leaving Mike alone in his office.

Lupo must have noticed it at the same time, because then he turned around and said, "Hey, Mike!"

Mike.

Not Cutter, or counselor.

"What is it, Detective?"

"Tomorrow night at Steve-O's. Bernard and I will buy you drinks, okay?"

Mike's eyes shifted to me for a second, as though he was trying to determine whether or not I'd solicited the invitation for him.

"Tomorrow night," he agreed with a nod.

"We're still going to be ass-deep in this case tomorrow night," Bernard said quietly as they came to a stop at my desk.

"Maybe so. But tonight he's going to need sleep, and tomorrow night he's going to need his friends. And I think that's us."

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

**Mary POV**

* * *

><p>"Inspector Shannon."<p>

"It's me."

John.

I let out a long breath that I didn't realize I was holding.

Because after that last call, the one earlier from the killer, the sound of my phone ringing sent me into a panic.

"What's wrong?" he asked when I still didn't speak.

Instead of answering, I left the conference room where Bobby and Alex were working and I headed down the hall in search of privacy.

I found a closet.

"Nothing," I replied at last.

"Mary…is it a _y_ kind of day?"

Y.

Our code meaning that I'm in some hairy shit.

Which meant that he was going from more than just the tone of my voice.

"Okay, who called you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it's nine o'clock in London, and you have a dinner meeting like _now_, the kind of meeting that you flew across the Atlantic to attend and yet you're calling me out of the blue, asking about whether or not it's a _y_ day instead of talking money while eating some kind of fancy appetizer that I probably can't even pronounce, so…who called you?"

"Mike," he admitted.

"I should've guessed. You may as well stay in London because I'm going to be in prison for a while after I kill your brother tonight."

"He didn't give me any details. He just said I should call you if I had a chance."

I snorted and he added, "He's concerned."

"He's overreacting."

"From the tone of your voice, I don't think he is."

I stood in the supply closet and took in a few more deep breaths.

"Mary, talk to me."

"Anna Holly was murdered and her killer called me to make a trade," I said after another moment.

"For what? If he already killed her…"

"He says he won't kill anyone else if I give up my witness. Or something to that effect, anyway."

"What are you going to do?" he asked calmly.

And his lack of reaction was almost worse, emotionally speaking.

Because he _gets_ me and he instinctively knows what I need.

He knows that if he started spouting off concerns, I'd get defensive and then I'd end up trying to pick a fight with him and the whole conversation would go off the rails.

So instead, he simply asked to hear my plan.

God, I love him.

I mean, I really, _really_ love him.

I know it has to be killing him _not_ to be here and that he's worried about me, and yet he's keeping it together, being strong because he knows it's what I need.

"I'm going to catch the son of a bitch," I responded.

"That's my girl. And in the mean time?"

"I'm staying with your traitor brother."

"Good."

"Good for me. It might not be so good for him."

"He loves you. He's worried."

"I know."

"And I love you," he added, lowering his voice to a near whisper.

"I wish you were here," I said, surprising both of us with the needy quality of my voice.

"Me, too. I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"

"I know. I'm a big girl. I'll be fine. And I've got Bobby and Alex working with me, plus Lupo and Bernard. And what's left of my team."

I could hear someone calling his name, a British-accented female calling _Mr. Strathmore._

I fought back my initial urge to be jealous.

Because I trust him implicitly.

But I absolutely hate the idea that he's thirty-five hundred miles away.

Not because I'm potentially in danger at the moment, but just because I have this crazy need to be with him all the time.

It's annoying.

"You need to go. This call is probably costing you millions in leverage capabilities. Never show up late to a meeting. You know that."

"I'm tempted to get back on the plane right now and skip the meeting altogether."

"If you do that, by the time you get here, you'll just be interrupting my sleep," I said sarcastically. As if I'm actually going to sleep tonight. "Go to your meeting. Be brilliant, and…make more money."

"I love you," he said again. "And go easy on Mike, okay?"

"For you, I will," I agreed. "But only because I love you. And if he keeps up this over-protective act, I won't be responsible for my actions."

"Mary," he chastised.

"Yeah, I know. He loves me. And you love me. It's all a big love fest. You know, six months ago, no one gave a damn about me and now suddenly…"

I stopped my rant mid-sentence because I realized I was about to cry.

Me.

"Go," I managed to say. "I'll finish making my point another time."

I hung up with him, after reassuring him once again that I'm perfectly fine, which is a flat-out lie and yet I had to do it because what good would it do for him to know otherwise?

And after I put my phone in my pocket, _then_ I let myself cry.

It went on for several minutes while I thought not only about Anna but also about life in general and how easily it can be cut short.

And then I mentally berated myself for acting like such a damn sissy.

People get killed in my line of work.

I mean, obviously that's not the desired result, but it definitely does happen and since when do I have a breakdown while hiding in a supply closet?

Since today.

Since I still can't help but feel somewhat responsible for Anna.

And I know…I only knew her for a week.

And really, I don't know her well at all.

She and I got along fine last week, after that interesting first day when I found out that there were rumors going around about me.

She'd come after me and apologized.

And the next day at work, she made a point of getting the word out that the initial scoop on me was inaccurate.

But she still had trouble calling me Mary, and I felt like she was a little bit standoffish.

Not like the others.

Mark McInnis is the kind of guy who should be doing commercials for the Marshal Service rather than actually working in it.

Not that he's not good, because I think he's okay and he hasn't proven me wrong so far, but I mean because he's this classically handsome, born-with-a-silver-spoon-in-his-mouth kind of guy, the kind where you actually expect to see a little cartoon sparkle show up on his teeth when he smiles.

And he has the company party line down to an art. It's almost like he memorized the Marshal handbook.

But, like I said, he seems smart. And he seems committed.

And how he reacts over the next several days, after losing his partner…that'll tell me more about him than any blurb in a personnel file.

Craig Daniels reminds me a little bit of Marshall, my old partner. Not in looks, but in personality. I haven't found a topic yet that he doesn't know something about. He's solid and competent and I'm not sure, but I think it's possible that he's sleeping with his partner, Dunn.

Jennifer Dunn is the classic over-achiever. Not that I listen to rumors, but if I did, I'd know that her father is old-school money down in Texas. Something to do with oil. Apparently he wanted sons, and all he got was one daughter, and she was never quite good enough.

As far as I'm concerned, she's more than good enough. She's only twenty-eight and she's already on the fast-track to management in the Marshal Service.

And surprisingly enough, I like her.

In fact, I like all of my team.

I just haven't seen them work in a crisis yet, which is why I'm glad that Major Case is involved, too.

Because I've seen Bobby and Alex in a crisis, and I know they've got the goods to get the job done.

I haven't witnessed Lupo and Bernard first hand, but Mike and Carolyn trust them, so I trust them.

But I'm not letting Mike completely off the hook for calling John.

In fact, I'm going to blame him for the fact that I'm in this damn closet, wiping my nose with my shirt sleeve, trying to pull myself together.

I decided that my shirt sleeve wasn't going to do it, so I slipped out of the closet and hustled down the hall to the ladies' room.

Where I ran into Alex.

"You can't possibly be that good," I said in annoyance as I brushed past her so that I could grab some toilet paper from the nearest stall.

"Not that good…" she repeated questioningly.

"You knew I'd be in here?"

"Um…no."

"Then what the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, I'm working on my fifth cup of coffee and those first four had to go somewhere, so…"

"Huh," I scoffed. "Yeah, fine. Whatever."

I blew my nose and then turned around to look at myself in the mirror.

Yikes.

I met Alex's eyes in the reflection, but she still didn't say anything.

"Allergy attack," I remarked self-consciously.

"Yeah, I get those sometimes."

I turned on the water and washed my face, and then found a hairband in my pocket and worked my hair into a ponytail.

"You're just going to stand there and watch? Or are you getting lessons on the fine art of the ponytail hairstyle?"

"I'm waiting to see if you're going to talk or if you're going to keep acting like nothing's bothering you."

"Talking's overrated."

"So's pretending to be tough."

"Alex…"

"You know, I don't think you should stay at the Millennium. If these people have information on you, they could have easily found out about John. Lord knows the papers write enough trash about him."

"I'm going to Mike and Carolyn's," I said, and it suddenly occurred to me that maybe it's a _good_ thing John's in London. What if this guy tried to go after him?

"They wouldn't go for John," Alex said.

"Damn, you _are_ that good," I said, shaking my head. "Seriously? You really just read my mind?"

"I just brought him up," she said, laughing lightly. "It wasn't a stretch."

"So how do you know they won't?"

"They let Cutter go. They're not going after loved ones. They're going after the marshals themselves."

"And the cops," I reminded her, not wanting her and Bobby to let down their guard.

"And the cops," she repeated.

She held my gaze for another minute and I sighed and then leaned against the wall so that I was looking at her directly instead of through the mirror.

"I'm fine. John called and I just…had a moment of weakness."

"You're exhausted and upset and anxious to find the people responsible," she said. "And you're missing John, so it's understandable that hearing his voice caused you to have a breakdown in your defenses."

"Can you be a little more rational about it?" I said sarcastically. "Because I'm not freaking out at all."

She smiled fully and tipped her head towards the door.

"You got it out of your system. You'll be fine. Come on. Lupo and Bernard are on their way back. They said they've got some interesting news."

"Okay," I said as I followed her out of the bathroom, feeling slightly better. "And my team…they're still trolling through Kew Gardens?"

"Yes. Daniels checked in about twenty minutes ago. They haven't found anyone willing to talk about anything, but they haven't given up yet. You know, they're pretty good. All three of them."

"Yeah, I think so," I agreed.

We went down the hall to the conference room and just as we entered, Lupo and Bernard came hurrying in behind us.

"We might have something," Lupo said, tossing several papers onto the table.

"What is it?" Bobby asked.

"Cutter said that Anna made a couple of calls from a payphone, so we pulled the LUDs and Cutter was able to give us a rough timeframe. She made it easy on us because the same number was on both phones."

"And? Who did she call?" I asked, reaching for the papers.

"We don't know yet. I called the number, and it's been disconnected, and it's not showing up in our database, so now we're just waiting to hear back from the Birmingham PD."

"Wait, Birmingham?" I asked sharply.

"Yeah, it's a 205-area code," Bernard replied. "Why?"

"Shit," I muttered as I pulled out my phone.

"What is it?" Lupo questioned.

I shook my head, but Bobby said, "It's your witness, isn't it?"

"I can't answer that," I said, but I brought my eyes to his and I could tell that he was hearing me say _yes_ just as if the word was coming from my mouth.

And he's not the only smart one in the room.

They were all hearing it.

I punched in the number for the Birmingham office

"Why would one of your inspectors be calling a witness? And didn't you say that Anna had no idea where the witness is currently living?"

"That's what I said. But obviously I was wrong."

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>"So what's going to happen?" Alex asked Mary.<p>

"We're bringing her here."

"Don't you think that's a bad idea? I mean, _here_ is where _they _are," Bernard pointed out.

The four of us were sitting in McNally's, finally having called it quits for the day.

And it's early, so I only say _finally_ because our day started around eleven o'clock last night.

We hated taking a break at all, but if we didn't allow ourselves the chance to sleep, then we might get sloppy and, especially in a case like this, we couldn't let that happen.

"We don't know what they know," Mary explained. "If Anna had something in her phone, or if she gave up the name of the city...they could go after her. I'd rather bring her here where they don't expect her to be than leave her there where they could potentially track her."

"Hiding in plain sight," I said with a nod. "It works more often than not."

"Exactly," Mary agreed. "And once we get this thing taken care of, then she can be relocated somewhere new."

She looked towards the door as Mike and Carolyn entered the bar and then she added, "And I hate to be all cloak and dagger about it, but too many people already know about this, and I know they're going to ask, but let's just stick to the basics, okay?"

The three of us nodded in understanding as the Logans got to the table. Mike pulled out a chair for Carolyn and then he sat down between her and me as he pinned me with a stare.

"A phone call would've been nice."

"About what?"

"About what? Really?"

"Mike, we can't talk about anything," Alex reasoned.

"You could've told me that she was killed. I don't have to know details, but it would be nice to know when my friends are in danger. I could do...something."

"There's nothing you can do."

"Maybe not, but..."

"I get it," I answered quietly.

Because I _do_ get it.

He feels like he's on the outside, and most of the people he loves are on the inside, and that's where all the scary stuff is happening.

"Do you?"

"Yeah."

"Good," Mary spoke up, looking heatedly at Mike. "Maybe you can help me get this. Why the hell did you call John?"

"You called John?" Alex asked Mike at the same time Carolyn said, "You said you weren't going to do that."

"What can I say? I overreact when I'm in the dark," he remarked, looking unrepentant.

"Yeah, but see, he's got this meeting going on, and there's nothing he can do from over there. There's not even anything he could do from _here_, so..."

"I didn't do it for him," Mike interrupted. "I did it for you."

I glanced over at Mary and saw that she was staring at him with her eyebrow furrowed and a perplexed expression on her face and any moment she was either going to give him the verbal lashing of his life or she was going to concede.

"Okay," she answered.

"Wait, you're letting him off the hook? Just like that?" Bernard asked in amusement. "I thought I was going to see an ass whipping."

"Who's kicking whose ass?" Lauren asked, apparently having arrived while we were deep in conversation.

"No one," Alex said. "False alarm. Where's Sean?"

"He said he needed to get home. Alicia's still puking her guts out."

"Thanks for the visual, Lauren," Carolyn said with a smirk.

"Any time," Hayes replied, smiling as she sat down next to Bernard. He immediately put his arm her, pulling her close against him.

It had been a long day for everyone, that's for sure.

Mike and Carolyn were the only ones at the table who actually got to sleep last night.

"So how's my case?" Lauren asked Mike wryly.

"You took their case?" Alex asked.

"Hey, you called it last week," Mike pointed out. "More bodies equal Major Case."

"How many more did you find?" I asked Hayes.

"We're up to five," she answered.

"Six, actually," Carolyn corrected. "The dogs found another one this afternoon."

"Yeah, we spent the whole damn day on Staten Island. I thought those days were behind me."

"You used to work there?" Mary asked.

"For ten years," Mike said, rolling his eyes. "I literally thought I would die of boredom."

"That's because you didn't have me there to entertain you," Carolyn teased.

"Very true," Mike agreed, settling his arm across her shoulders.

"So I guess you're just down to tracking the guy, right? I mean, you know who it is, don't you?" I asked.

"Not exactly," Carolyn said. "Number six…he was our suspect. And he's been dead for a while so…it's pretty safe to say he's not the killer. Or at least, not the subway killer. We're still waiting for the ME to wade through the other victims to determine TOD."

"Huh," Lauren remarked. "I would've bet money on him. Family members? Brothers? Uncles? Cousins?"

"They don't call us Major Case for nothing, kiddo," Logan joked. "We're all over it."

"Good for you, island boy," she retorted. "Meanwhile, Eames and I are working a floater."

"Did you ID him?"

"Yeah, his DNA popped. He's former Coast Guard. We went to his place today, but we didn't find any evidence of anything. He wasn't killed at his apartment."

"LUDs? Mail? Employer? Girlfriend?"

Lauren grinned at Mike and said, "When I need help on a case, I'll ask Bernard."

"But how will that help?" Mike asked with feigned innocence.

"Quit before she hurts you, Mike," Carolyn warned in amusement. Then she looked at me and asked, "So what can you tell us? Anything?"

I glanced at Alex and together we turned to look at Mary.

"I may have a compromised witness," she answered after a moment's consideration. "And the guys looking for her have a hard-on for law enforcement, so…"

"So that's why you're staying with us tonight."

"Yeah. Although you know, maybe that's not such a good idea. Maybe that'll put you two at risk, too."

"Only if you assume he's out there right now, watching this place. Otherwise he wouldn't know to look for you there."

"And so what if he does," Carolyn added. "I haven't shot anyone in a few weeks. I'm starting to feel a little trigger-happy."

"Are you in withdrawals? Because I can give you my mother's address," Lauren joked and we all started laughing.

"I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't laughter," Lupo said as he and Connie approached the table.

"We're making progress," Mary said firmly. "Tonight we need to unwind and get some sleep and then tomorrow will get back to it. I'm certainly not going to cower in a corner and wait for his next move, are you?"

"Uh, no," he said with a grin. "I'm going to have a beer. Besides, cowering in a corner kind of cramps the style of a newlywed. And we still haven't slept in our bed yet as a married couple, so we're having one drink and then heading for home."

"That was our plan, too," I said. "And I think we're about done. Alex?"

She looked at me curiously, but then she finished off her drink and pushed back from the table.

"Don't run off on our account," Connie said.

"It's not you. It's exhaustion," I promised.

And that was mostly true.

I _am_ exhausted, but I also want to have some alone time with Alex before we both collapsed from fatigue.

"See you two in the morning," Lupo said with a nod.

We said our goodbyes and left McNally's.

"I'm so tired," Alex commented as she handed over the keys. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

So I drove us home, and the whole time I kept one eye on the rearview mirror. I was still slightly spooked by that phone call Mary had gotten earlier today, especially since the guy had obviously been watching us.

Was it a stretch to think he might still be watching now?

"No sign of anyone following us?" Alex asked when I parked around the corner from our building. She'd had her eyes closed for most of the drive, but it still didn't surprise me to learn that she knew what I was doing.

"No, we're good," I assured her. "So can you wake up enough to walk inside, or should I carry you?"

She smirked at me and then rolled her eyes as she climbed out of the SUV.

"The day I need you to carry me inside…"

But she didn't finish her sentence because I scooped her up and started walking down the street, ignoring the looks from passing pedestrians.

"Bobby, I swear to God…" she mumbled, but she was working hard to stifle a laugh.

"Sshh…I want you to save your energy."

"For what?" she asked coyly.

"For what I have planned for you upstairs."

"You planned something out?"

"Well, roughly. I have a general idea of what I want."

"And what is that?"

"You."

"Well, yeah, I _know_ that," she teased back. "But what is it that you want to do to me?"

By this time we were upstairs, standing outside of our apartment door, so I said, "Let me unlock the door and then I'll show you."

I let us inside and then locked up behind us.

And call me paranoid, but I took a minute to do a quick sweep of the place, just to be on the safe side.

Then I went into the kitchen, which is where Alex had gone while I was doing my search, and I grabbed her from behind.

"Is it safe?" she asked me.

"Perfectly."

"Well, you'd better hurry up and have your way with me before I fall asleep."

"Fall asleep?" I asked in mock horror. "You would think about sleep at a time like this?"

"Then do something to keep me awake," she challenged.

So I did.

I picked her up again and carried her down the hall to our bedroom, where I deposited her on the bed, and then I stretched out over top of her.

We were still dressed, but for the moment, I just wanted to kiss her.

Although I shouldn't say it like that because there's no _just_ when it comes to kissing her.

I mean, I could literally do it all night.

And the feel of her body beneath mine, and the gentleness of her fingers as they ran through my hair, and the quiet sounds she makes while we explore each other's mouths with the pleasurable, controlled passion of long-time lovers…

I certainly wasn't in any hurry to move things to the next phase.

Well, I _wasn't_ until she trailed one hand down my back and over my butt, gripping onto me tightly through the fabric of my slacks. Her action brought my hips down firmly against hers, and I could feel her rise up against me, and then she broke off the kiss and tipped her head back, encouraging me to kiss her neck, so of course I obliged and then she let out the most contented, most erotic sigh as she raised her hips up against me again, and my slow leisurely pace was annihilated.

"You did that on purpose," I growled as I shifted far enough away from her so that I could get her out of her clothes.

"Did what?" she asked innocently.

"You're trying to get me to hurry up, so that you can go to sleep," I accused teasingly.

"You honestly think I'm thinking about sleep _now_," she asked as she unzipped my pants. "Trust me, honey. Sleep's not on my mind."

And it wasn't.

But an hour later it was more prevalent, as we lay close with our legs tangled together beneath the sheets.

"Mary was crying today," she said softly. Her eyes were closed and her cheek was against my chest as her fingers stroked slowly over my skin.

"That's understandable."

"She was mortified that I saw her like that. Well, I didn't actually see her cry, but it was pretty obvious."

"She's used to being tough. Like someone else I know."

"Huh," she mused. "I guess so."

"So she's okay? She seemed alright tonight."

"Yeah, I think so. She'd just talked to John on the phone, and you know, sometimes opening up to the one you love…that's enough to do it."

"John's good for her."

"Uh huh. Do you think she was really mad at Mike for calling him?"

"I don't know, but if she is, she'll get over it. I mean, if it were you and me, I would want him to call."

"And he would."

"Uh huh."

"Any word on his father?"

"No. I asked him just before we left McNally's, but he said that he'd been busy with the case on the island all day."

"If Dad had found something good, he would've texted him."

"Yeah," I agreed.

We were both quiet for a few minutes, and then I said, "This case we're working…it might get worse before it gets better."

"I know."

"Okay, so…just to get it out there, I'm going to say it now."

"Say what?"

"I'm not letting you out of my sight until we catch these guys."

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I'm still waiting on my cookies...there must be a snag in the virtual delivery system!**

* * *

><p><strong>Logan POV<strong>

* * *

><p>I hated to see Bobby and Alex leave so early, but it was understandable.<p>

As he was getting ready to leave, Bobby asked me about Johnny's progress, but I blew him off because I didn't want to get into it right then.

I didn't exactly lie, but I just said that I'd been busy with the case all day.

And that part was true.

I _was_ busy.

But Johnny had texted me a couple of hours ago.

_**I got a tip that's taking me to Boston tomorrow. Are you sure you want me to do this?**_

Boston.

She really did get around.

She'd had a husband in Jersey, and a son who was fathered by another man.

And then she'd apparently gone to Boston before ending up in New York with my dad.

I guess the only question is was I already on board when she met John Logan?

_**Yes, **_I replied to Johnny.

And then the human half of the cadaver dog team had called out my name, and so Carolyn and I had trudged across the expansive field to the location of the latest find.

Body number six.

Greg Umsted.

He was someone who had a beef with the victim from the subway. Witnesses had reported seeing Greg and the victim, Kim Yoo, arguing on a fairly regular basis during the morning commute.

That was why Eames and Hayes had come out to talk to him.

When he didn't answer the door, they'd questioned the neighbors, one of whom mentioned Greg's odd behavior and his propensity for wandering around his property in the dark of night.

Which in turn led to Eames and Hayes wandering around the property, where they stumbled across freshly overturned earth.

And that's how we ended up here.

Only clearly Greg isn't our killer, since he's now amongst the dead, so now we have to backtrack.

But I'll get back on that tomorrow.

Tonight, I was a mess of varying emotions.

Guilt for not telling Bobby about Johnny's lead.

And yes, I plan to tell him as soon as possible, but still…I should've just said it.

But he's got enough on his mind right now. He doesn't need to be worrying about me and my potential parentage. I'd much rather he focus his attention on Alex, since it sounds like this nut job they're after has little regard for cops.

And then there's Mary.

I can't decide if she's truly mad at me and she's simply temporarily letting me off the hook while she simmers to a boil, or if she really does understand why I called John.

Because I meant what I said.

I didn't call him because I thought he could do something about it. I called so that he would know that she needed him.

I mean, that's what brothers do for each other, right? Look out for the people they love when they aren't around to do it themselves.

When Alex and I went to Minnesota…she nearly worried me to death because all I kept thinking about was how I couldn't let Bobby down by letting something happen to her.

And it's not easy to keep up with her, that's for sure.

It's a good thing I have practice in that arena, being married to Carolyn, because most men wouldn't have been up for the task.

And as it turned out, she's the one who saved _me_, fishing me out of that damn frozen lake and bringing me back to life.

But I digress.

I decided that if Mary's mad at me, then she'll just be mad.

I did the right thing by calling John.

"So, Carolyn…I talked to Mulder today," Lupo was saying.

"How's he doing?" I asked.

"Really well. I guess at that age, you heal quicker than old guys like us."

"Is he still thinking about the Bureau?" Carolyn asked him.

"That's why he called. Well, that and to ask me if I've seen any seriously gnarly shit lately," he said with a grin. "But yeah, he wanted me to check with you and see if it's okay if he calls you."

"Why didn't he just call?" I asked.

"I don't know why he does half the stuff he does," Lupo replied.

"Maybe he's afraid of you, Logan," Bernard offered. "He doesn't want you to think he's trying to steal your girl away from you."

"His _girl_?" Carolyn questioned playfully, raising her eyebrow at Bernard. "That's kind of sexist, don't you think?"

"Shhh, sweetheart. Men are talking," I joked. I braced for the smack on the arm that I knew was coming, and she didn't disappoint me.

"Anyway," Lupo said after the laughter died down. "Do you think you can still get him an interview?"

"I can get him a job," Carolyn said confidently. "The interview will just be compulsory."

"Good. That'll be good for him to spread his wings," Connie said.

"Hey, where's the chief tonight?" Mary asked. She'd just gotten back to the table after a trip to the ladies' room, and this time she sat down in Bobby's vacated chair, right next to me.

So maybe she's not mad at me after all.

She scooted her chair up to the table and eyeballed me for a moment before flashing me a half-smile and nudging my leg with hers.

Definitely not mad.

"He and Liz went home," Carolyn supplied as I returned Mary's nudge. "Jeremy's back, so they probably wanted to have dinner with him."

"Yeah, Liz said he might be working at 1PP this summer," Hayes said. "I guess he's waiting for his grades, and if they're good enough, Ross is going to let him do an internship."

"I love child labor," I commented. "We can send him on coffee runs and he can make copies and go to the lab…"

"Do you plan to do any work yourself?" Carolyn asked me.

"Yes. I do," I said firmly as I checked my watch. "And I plan to do it in about thirty minutes, so unless we want to get arrested for lewd behavior, we'd probably better go home."

"Okay, guys…ew," Mary said. "Did you forget I'm coming home with you?"

I put one arm around Carolyn and the other around Mary, hugging both of them to me as I said, "I know that. Why do you think I'm in such a hurry?"

Mary rolled her eyes and looked at Lupo.

"Are you sure I can't stay with you?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"Fine," she said on a sigh. Then she leaned around in front of me and looked at Carolyn and said, "But I get to be in the middle."

"Oh, you can just have him to yourself," Carolyn said as she got up. "I'll wait and take John when he gets back."

"You guys really need to go," Bernard said, shaking his head. "I don't think I'm old enough to hear about what goes on in your bedroom."

We left McNally's amidst a barrage of sexual innuendo and then we headed for our cars.

Mary followed us back to our place, and since I knew she was still slightly worried about the idea that she might be putting Carolyn and me in danger, I did a few evasive maneuvers on the way home, just to try to flush out any potential tails.

But we were clean.

And then we went inside the house, and I took a few moments to look around, just like always.

I can't help it.

We're on the radar of too many unscrupulous people.

"All clear, Batman?" Mary asked me when I walked into the kitchen, tucking my gun into its holster.

"Make fun all you want," I said, accepting the glass of Jack that Carolyn held out for me. "But we'll all sleep better tonight knowing we're securely locked inside of this place."

Mary nodded, apparently appreciating my vigilance, and then the three of us moved to sit down at the dining room table with the bottle of Jack in between us.

"This feels like déjà vu," Mary remarked. "Only last time I had a sleepover with you guys, it was so that I could watch over you."

"And now we're returning the favor. No biggie," I said with a shrug, and then I tossed back the whiskey, feeling it burn all the way down into my stomach.

It reminded me that I never got around to eating dinner.

Neither had Carolyn.

At that thought, I got up and went back into the kitchen, leaving the women alone for a minute. I opened the refrigerator and pulled out what I needed to make sandwiches.

"Mary, did you eat?" I called out as I undid the twist tie on a loaf of bread.

"Today?" she replied.

"Never mind," I said, shaking my head as I got down a third plate and proceeded to put together the makeshift dinner.

It felt so natural having her here.

_And John's going to marry her_, I thought.

How did I suddenly get so lucky, with so many great people in my life?

And then I thought about what Johnny was doing for me and I started to have doubts.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe it was something better left unexplored.

Because if I have a different father, then didn't that open up the possibility that I have other half brothers or sisters?

And John's great…really great, but what are the odds that additional siblings would be anything like him?

Because in all likelihood, this man I'm searching for, if he even exists, is probably a piece of crap, just like my mother.

So why do I even want to find him?

"Do you need some help?" Carolyn asked as she quietly came up behind me.

"No, I'm…I'm done," I said, looking down and realizing that I _was_ in fact done.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I was just thinking."

"About Boston?"

"Yeah."

"Let's take it one step at a time," she said in that soothing voice of hers that makes me want to spend the rest of my life in her arms, listening to her tell me that everything's going to be okay. "We'll see what Johnny finds first. And then you can decide what you want to do with the information."

"_We_ can decide," I corrected. "You know you're the rational half of my brain, right?"

She smiled at me, and then together we took the plates into the dining room where we polished off the sandwiches and the rest of the Jack.

"I hate to be a party-pooper, but I'm done," Mary said once we'd finished.

"You're going to stay in a guest room this time, right?" Carolyn asked leadingly.

"There's nothing wrong with your couch."

"No, there isn't. And there's nothing wrong with the bedrooms, either."

"It'll put me awfully close to the two of you," Mary teased.

"We promise to keep the orgasmic screaming to a minimum," I joked back.

"Deal."

So she went upstairs and the two of us cleaned up the mess and then followed suit.

And we were true to our word about staying quiet.

Probably because Carolyn slapped her hand over my mouth at just the right moment, but whatever.

I'm pretty sure we didn't wake up Mary because knowing her, if we had, she would've yelled out something crude and sarcastic.

Afterwards, I was more than ready to go to sleep.

Even though we hadn't been up all night like some of the others, it had still been a long day, so we settled beneath the blankets and I closed my eyes, immediately drifting off to sleep.

It was pitch dark when my eyes flew open as my brain scrambled to pinpoint the origination of the foreign sound.

Was it part of a dream?

Or was it real?

I could hear Carolyn's breathing change, signifying her progression from sleep to wakefulness.

"You heard it?" I whispered.

"Yeah, but I'm not sure what it was. Maybe it's just Mary."

Mary.

For a moment, I'd forgotten that she was in the house with us.

The two of us stayed perfectly still in the darkness, each of us tuned in to the sound of silence.

And then I heard it again.

A kind of scraping, thumping sound coming from the vicinity of the front porch, which structurally speaking, is directly below our bedroom window.

Without a sound, we both slipped out from beneath the covers. Carolyn grabbed for my t-shirt while I pulled on a pair of boxers and then we both snagged our weapons from our respective bedside tables.

I went first, but only by virtue of the fact that my side of the bed is closest to the bedroom door.

Carolyn followed close behind as together we headed for the stairs.

I kept my aim on the increasing space created by the stairwell wall, off to the right, and I knew without looking that Carolyn was focused on the living room area at the bottom of the stairs.

I leaned down slightly, anxious to get a view of the front door, but it was dark and I couldn't see much until suddenly, light from the outside lights flooded into the room as the front door was flung open, while simultaneously the alarm began to sound, shattering through the silence of the house.

"What the…" I muttered as I thundered down the remaining steps with Carolyn right behind me.

As my eyes struggled to adjust and make sense of the shapes I was seeing in front of me, I heard Mary's voice over the blaring alarm.

"Don't move, asshole, or I'll blow your head off!"

TBC...


	11. Chapter 11

**Bernard POV**

* * *

><p>We were still laughing about Logan and his attempt for a ménage a trois when Connie's phone rang.<p>

"It's Schmenke," she announced and then she got up from the table and walked toward the front door, presumably in hopes of finding a quiet spot to take the call.

Lauren fell silent at the mention of the lawyer's name.

Flowers' lawyer, the one who wanted to add strings to the deal.

Lupo excused himself, stating that he'd go to the bar and bring us more drinks.

He didn't need to do that because our waitress tonight was on the ball, so I knew he was just giving us a moment alone.

He knows about what happened with Lauren, but I appreciate the fact that he was offering us some privacy, at least for a few minutes.

"Hey, we're prepared for either scenario," I reminded Lauren gently once Lupo was gone. "I've got your back."

"I know. It's just…I mean, we've got enough going on. Maybe I should just meet him and get it over with."

"You mean agree to his terms so that he takes the deal?"

"Yeah."

"But then you're letting him win."

"I know that's what I said, but going through with a trial…how is that _me_ winning? I think I'm losing either way. I mean, I either have to go talk to him, in which case he's getting what he wants. Or I don't, and then it goes to trial and all of my past is paraded out in front of a jury…in front of _him_. It'll be like I'm getting screwed all over again."

I could feel the anger building inside of me, fury over what had happened to her, but I couldn't let her see it.

She might take it as being directed at her when that couldn't be farther from the truth.

But I can't help it.

Every time I think about what he did to her, I want to kill him.

"What if Connie makes him a better offer," I suggested. "One he can't refuse."

"And then he gets out in five or six years instead of ten? He shouldn't be almost out anyway. He killed a woman. _After_ what he did to me. He should rot in Frackville."

"Yes, he should," I agreed.

I picked up her hand and kissed the back of it before tucking it inside of both of mine.

And while I was comforting her, I found myself once again contemplating making the trip to Pennsylvania.

Alone, I mean.

It wasn't the first time that thought crossed my mind, but tonight I felt the urge even stronger than before.

Before, I'd thought about taking Flowers' cellie some cigarettes to promote jailhouse justice.

A beatdown.

Now I was wondering how many cartons it would take to buy a hit.

Two or three, maybe.

It would be money well spent.

"This round's on me," Lupo said as he got back to the table, somehow managing to carry all four pints.

He caught my eye and gave me a questioning look, one that asked whether or not he should make a few laps around the bar before sitting down.

But I could see that Connie had wrapped up her phone call and was making her way back to the table, so either Lauren and I would postpone our discussion, or we'd have it in front of them.

"Do I want to know?" Lauren asked Connie.

"He wanted to let me know that he's drafting a pre-trial motion, questioning the authenticity of the DNA sample," she answered as she sat down.

"So…what, he's trying to get it thrown out? But that's all we have. I didn't see his face."

"I know."

"How can he say that? It was collected at a hospital," I said with barely controlled outrage.

"And it sat in police storage for ten years. He can claim that the police pulled it out and fixed it in an effort to keep him in prison, since he's now up for parole."

"He's in Pennsylvania," I argued. "We didn't even know he existed until the hit came back."

"It's okay, B.," Lauren said, surprising me with her calmness. "We knew they'd try something."

"It's not okay. How in the hell would we have picked him?"

"You had Detective Benson pull the evidence and order the test, right?" Connie asked.

"Yes. She's SVU. She'd have easy access without raising flags."

"Right. And she also arrested him once," Connie said carefully.

"She did? She didn't say anything."

"She probably doesn't remember him. He was arrested and then released due to lack of substantial evidence. It was about three months before…"

Connie trailed off and then shifted her gaze from me to Lauren.

"Before he raped me," Lauren finished evenly. "So he did it and he got away with it. And then he did it to me and he got away with it again. And then he went to Pennsylvania, only that time he decided to kill her when he was done."

Connie looked at me worriedly, and my stomach clenched in anticipation of what she might say next.

"Actually, he killed the first girl, too. Or at least, those were the charges."

"He…he killed the girl _before_ me? _And_ the one after me?"

"Yes. And Schmenke's claim is that Benson saw your case as an opportunity to get back at his client. That she was resentful about the fact that he got off when she arrested him the first time, and in that case there wasn't any DNA evidence, so she used you as a means of making him pay."

"She wouldn't do that," I said. "And she didn't mention even knowing who the guy was when she told me about the hit."

"Which almost helps Schmenke. He'll argue that there's no way she would've forgotten him, so the fact that she didn't tell you means she was trying to hide it."

"So now what?" Lauren asked in frustration, and I couldn't decide if she looked like she was ready to cry or scream.

Maybe a little bit of both.

"Just because he's filing a motion doesn't mean the judge will agree."

"But it's a possibility. And if the DNA's thrown out, then he'll get his parole. He'll be out on the streets by the end of the summer."

"Maybe," Connie admitted.

"Or I go see him and he agrees to stay in for ten more years. Doesn't that count for anything? I mean, the fact that he's willing to confess and get a ten-year sentence…doesn't that show that he's guilty?"

"It's something I can bring up at trial, if we get that far."

"If we get that far," Lauren repeated bitterly. "This is great. This is really, fucking great."

She scooted her chair back and looked at Connie apologetically.

"I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you. I'm just…mad," she told her.

"I understand. And you know, with Detective Benson's statement, there's still a chance I can get the DNA admitted. I mean, I'll have to check out her jacket and make sure there's nothing to indicate a pattern or anything, but still…"

"Let me think about it," she replied. Then she looked at me and said, "Can we go?"

"Absolutely," I agreed. We got up and I pulled out my wallet, but Lupo stopped me.

"I said this is on me."

"Not all of it," I argued.

"All of it. Get some sleep and I'll see you tomorrow."

I nodded and put my wallet back into my pocket and then I took Lauren by the hand and led the way out of the restaurant.

I could feel her outrage just from touching her hand.

"I'm sorry for being rude," she said as we stepped into the night air.

"You weren't."

"I was," she fired back. "And this is probably going to sound rude, too, but maybe I need to be by myself tonight."

"Why?"

We stopped on the sidewalk and she took her hand from mine as she squared off in front of me.

"Why? You're seriously going to ask me why?" her voice raising both in pitch and volume.

"Yeah, I'm asking you why," I said firmly.

"Did you hear what just happened in there? I thought I had this whole thing straight in my mind, and now it's all fucked up again. So maybe I'm not in the mood for company tonight."

"I'm not company," I replied, keeping my voice calm despite my growing worry that she was once again going to insist on pushing me away.

"But…I'm just…I'm so _pissed_ and you know, I'm not fun to be around when I'm like this, and I'll probably say a lot of things that you don't deserve to have to listen to, and…"

"Wait a minute," I interrupted. "You think I'm only with you because you're _fun_?"

She started to say something and then she stopped and looked at me curiously before saying, "I honestly have no idea why you're with me. Especially after these past couple of weeks…hell, I've been a bitch more than not since you and I got together, and…"

"I love you. That's why I'm with you. And that's why I'm not just going to let you go your own way tonight simply because you're in a pissy mood. Because I have to tell you…I'm pretty pissed about this whole thing, too. I'm the one who called Olivia, and if it's because of her that the evidence might get thrown out…"

I had more to say.

Really, I did.

And I think it was some pretty poignant stuff, too, but she cut me off, and every thought in my mind dissipated as she threw her arms around me and kissed me.

Purposefully…heatedly…perfectly…

I wasn't anywhere near ready to be done when she slowly pulled away from me.

"I'm sorry," she said, keeping her eyes locked on mine.

"For…"

"Trying to isolate myself. Again. I guess I'm too used to doing things on my own. And in previous relationships…"

"None of those matter," I said, and it suddenly occurred to me that I actually said the words _I love you_.

Out loud.

For the first time.

I'd gotten myself so worked up that the words just came out without my permission.

I mean, they've been right there on the tip of my tongue for more than a week now, but I planned to say them at some romantic moment, after this Flowers situation was cleared up.

And now I'd blurted them out, right in the _middle_ of the Flowers situation and at about the least romantic time imaginable.

_And_ I'd followed up the declaration with a lecture.

_Very smooth, Bernard. _

Although, she's definitely calmed down.

And she kissed me, so even if she doesn't feel the same, she's obviously not upset about it.

She continued to stare at me as we stood there on the sidewalk, the moment hanging between us.

Was she mulling over my words?

"Let's go home," I said. "And you can be pissy all you want."

"Maybe I don't want to be pissy anymore," she countered, as a smile spread across her face.

"Lauren, I'm not trying to tell you how feel," I told her, because I don't want her to think that I expect everything has to be roses just because I blurted out my true feelings. "I'm just saying that you should feel _whatever_ and don't think that just because you're not _fun_ that I won't still want to stick around."

She nodded and took my hand again and together we turned and continued walking towards the car.

"Because you love me," she stated, causing a nervous feeling to take residence in my stomach.

"Yeah, about that. I didn't mean to put you on the spot. I really didn't mean to say it at all."

"Oh."

_Even better, Bernard_, I thought in annoyance.

"I mean…wait," I said, once again coming to a stop.

She turned around and faced me again, but she was slow to bring her eyes to mine. I put my hand on her cheek, and then slid it further around so that I was cupping the back of her head.

"All I'm trying to say is that I was going to _wait_ to say it," I explained.

"So…you do…or…" she began leadingly.

And honestly, I've never once put myself out there like this, not for any woman.

But Lauren's not just any woman.

"Oh, I definitely love you."

She smiled fully and kissed me lightly before saying, "That's such a relief because I'd really hate to be in love with someone who doesn't love me back."

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

**Ross POV**

* * *

><p>It's two-thirty.<p>

In the morning.

And even though I didn't sleep at all last night, I can't sleep tonight either.

And this time it's not because I was called to the scene of an unspeakable crime.

This time it's because of my wife.

Something's going on with her.

When I picked her up from work, everything seemed fine.

In fact, things between us have been really, really good over the past couple of weeks.

Ever since we went to the Catskills.

But then this evening…

When we first got home, we found Jeremy in the kitchen.

"_See?_" he said, smiling broadly as he stirred something in a pot. "_This is how you cook. Fully clothed."_

"_You're cooking_?" I asked, ignoring his ribbing about having caught Liz and me in the act on Sunday.

"_I figured how hard can it be? Mom cooks."_

"_Jeremy,"_ Liz admonished, shaking her head.

"_He has a point_," I said, crossing the room to take a peek at what was in the pot.

But even after looking, I still wasn't sure.

"_What is that…exactly?"_

"_It's gumbo,"_ he replied as if I should've known.

Because my college-aged son could routinely be found in the kitchen cooking gumbo.

"_Smells good,"_ Liz said. "_How much longer?"_

"_Twenty minutes."_

"_Good,_" she said, and then she looked at me and smiled, waggling her eyebrows as she added, "_That'll give us just enough time to…"_

She trailed off and Jeremy yelled out in protest.

"_Seriously, Liz? Come on, I mean, I recovered after Sunday, but if you're going to keep talking about it, you're going to damage me for life."_

"_Change clothes and have a pre-dinner drink is what I was going to say_," she explained, flashing him a smirk.

"_You did that on purpose,"_ he said, chuckling as he continued to stir.

"_Don't tease me and expect not to get teased back."_

"_Yes, ma'am_," he answered with a grin.

"_We'll be down in twenty minutes_," I told him, and then Liz and I left the kitchen and went upstairs.

Where she promptly closed and locked our bedroom door and then she turned to me with a predatory look on her face.

"_Yeah, I lied. What do you say we skip that pre-dinner drink?"_ she asked as she whipped off her top.

"_You want to try to get in a quickie while my son's downstairs putting dinner on the table?"_

"_Yes,"_ she said, and then she started undoing the knot on her pants.

Sometimes it takes her awhile to get it undone, but I'll never say a word about it.

She's been doing _that_ a lot longer than she's been doing _me_ and if it makes her feel better than I'm damn sure not going to bring it up.

But so while she did that, I got out of my suit.

She kept her eyes on me the whole time, and even though I wasn't necessarily in the mood when she first suggested it, by the time I got undressed, I was.

And she was still fiddling with the knot.

"_Maybe I need to work out some kind of padlock system instead,"_ she said, finally looking down at what she was doing and tugging on the string in frustration.

"_Let me do it,"_ I said as I stepped closer to her.

She dropped her hands and let me take over the task.

"_I'm sorry. I'm wasting our time."_

"_We have plenty of time. If we don't get it in before dinner, we'll do it afterwards."_

I kept my focus on the knot until I noticed that she was shaking, and then I looked up to see her trying to hold back a laugh.

"_What?"_ I asked, smiling hesitantly.

"_If we don't _get it in_ before dinner_?"

I barked out a laugh at her juvenile sense of humor and then I was suddenly victorious in my battle with the string.

She instantly stopped laughing as she pushed down her pants, stepping out of them as she wrapped her arms around me, moving me backwards towards the bed.

"_I don't want to wait until afterward_s," she said, turning us around and then pulling me down on top of her.

The playfulness was gone as we went at each other vigorously, and I didn't take the time to wonder why it felt different.

Why it seemed as though she was feeling some kind of desperation.

Looking back on it, I realize that the frenetic pace was her way of blocking something else out.

And I'm going to have to find out what it is.

I need her to tell me before I drive myself crazy.

Because later, after we finished our competitive session that wouldn't be considered a quickie in anyone's book, we went down to dinner.

Jeremy didn't comment on why it took us longer than twenty minutes, but instead the three of us sat down at the table.

"_So, my grades were posted today,"_ he told us.

"_And?"_

"_And….when can I start?"_ he asked me with a grin.

"_Better than a 3.0?"_

"_3.3,"_ he answered.

"_You can start tomorrow if you want_," I told him. "_Or you can wait until Monday. It's up to you. But Jeremy…nice job. Really. I'm very proud of you."_

"_Me, too,"_ Liz added.

And we were all sitting there smiling at each other, like one big, happy family in some 50's sitcom, until the phone rang.

The landline, not a cell.

Jeremy made a move to get it, but Liz hopped up instead.

"_Hello?"_ she answered and then she said, "_No, just…hold on a minute."_

I thought that meant it was for me or Jeremy, but she looked at me and said, _"I'm going to take this in the other room. I'll be right back."_

"_Who is it?"_ I asked her.

She didn't answer. Instead, she left the kitchen, not going back to the caller until she was out of earshot.

"_That was kind of weird, huh?"_ Jeremy remarked.

"_Yeah,"_ I mumbled and then I realized that my son was staring at me.

Because Liz was almost acting like Nancy used to act, back when she was cheating on me.

She would be secretive about phone calls, wanting to talk in another room so that I couldn't hear.

"_It's probably work. She doesn't want to ruin our appetites by talking about corpses during dinner."_

"_Work,"_ he said with a slow nod. _"On the landline."_

"_Her…um…her cell's probably upstairs, so…"_

_"Sorry,"_ Liz said with forced cheerfulness as she came back into the room. _"Jenkins left early today and he just wanted to catch up on what he missed."_

She sat down and immediately started eating, working hard to make conversation, but it was obvious that she was lying.

And I couldn't imagine why.

And now, seven hours later, I still can't imagine.

I rolled over onto my side and wrapped my arm around her, pulling her firmly against me.

"Liz," I whispered.

Because I'm pretty sure that she's awake, too.

She stayed quiet while I debated if I should push the issue and then she let out a long sigh and turned in my arms so that she was facing me.

"You want to know who was on the phone."

"It wasn't Jenkins."

"No."

"And something's on your mind. Earlier…"

"I didn't hear you complaining earlier."

"No, and I'm still not. It's just…thinking back, it seems like maybe you were…I don't know. Trying _not_ to think."

"I think all day, Danny. Sometimes it's nice to turn it off."

"Yes, it is," I agreed. "And if it were only that…"

"Somebody's looking for me," she interrupted suddenly.

"Somebody? What do you mean by that?"

"Someone called the morgue today. A woman. She asked for Elizabeth Rodgers, and when I got on the phone, she asked me if I'm the former Elizabeth Chambers."

"What did she want?"

"I don't know what she wanted. I told her she had the wrong person, and then I asked her what it was about, but she apologized and hung up."

"Was that her who called tonight? On the home phone?" I asked, my concern growing exponentially as the seconds ticked off the clock.

"No, this time it was a man, but he asked the same thing."

I sat up in the bed and clicked on the lamp.

"This might have something to do with Mary's case. She got a threatening call today. And the killer was at the scene last night. He might've seen you."

"No, Danny…it's…how would the killer know my maiden name?"

"I don't know, but…wait, why did you say you're not her?"

"Because I…don't exactly want to be found. That's why I took Marcus' name when we got married, and that's why I kept it even after we got divorced. I've severed all ties with my life before that time."

"Why?" I asked, and it hit me how little I know about my wife.

I mean, I know about her now.

And I know that she had skill as a pickpocket when she was a kid, but I don't know much more than that.

And her parents were in their forties when she was born, and they passed away about ten years ago, so I never met them. I've never met anyone from her life before she arrived at the ME's office.

"I'm not ready to talk about it yet."

"Liz…"

"I'm sorry, Danny. I just…I realized that you were suspicious about the phone call and I don't want you to think that there's another man in my life because I would never do that to you. Never. But I'm just…I can't talk about it right now."

And then she looked at me with a mixture of love and pleading and panic, and now I'm even more confused than I was before we started this conversation.

Although I believe her when she says it's not another man.

I knew before she said it, even though I let my imagination get the better of me.

I know she would never cheat on me, but it's tough to remember that, especially when I also know that she could do so much better than me.

I'll never forget her telling me that.

_You're not all that great of a catch anyway._

And yeah, she was pissed at me when she said it, but still…

I happen to agree with her, so it makes it harder for me to forget those words.

"Maybe I can help you," I offered.

And now that I felt more confident that this didn't have anything to do with an affair or the Albanians, I turned the light off and moved closer to her in the bed, wrapping my arm around her, holding her against my chest.

"I'm not sure that you can."

"When the man called tonight…he asked the same thing as the woman?"

"Yes."

"And he didn't identify himself?"

"No."

"The phone's in my name," I pointed out.

"I know."

"So this isn't just about someone getting lucky on a Google search. They have actual information on you."

"They must have my social. That's how they tracked Chambers to Rodgers. Because I haven't used that name as an adult. I didn't even use it when I started college."

"But…you weren't married then. You got married while you were in college."

"That's right."

"So you changed your name before? Why? To what?"

"Danny…" she said quietly, and that's when I realized that she was crying.

I immediately felt guilt for pushing the subject matter after she asked me to let it go, and so I pulled her more fully onto me, stroking my hand over her hair.

"Never mind. We don't have to talk about it tonight," I assured her, even though on the inside I was yelling _what is it?_

"I wanted to disappear," she said after another minute. "I changed my name so that I could start a new life. And that's probably why I was so quick to marry Marcus, too."

"Okay," I said soothingly. "So these people calling you…they must know something about it, right? You think they've tracked you down because of something you did?"

"Yes."

My mind raced over possibilities, but nothing I could think of meshed with the Liz I know.

_But that was a Liz that I _don't_ know_, I reminded myself.

And it wasn't like her not to face something head on.

I mean, what's she afraid of?

I finally had to ask.

"You're avoiding them because you're afraid of something, but Liz…I can help you. I'm the chief of D's. And we have friends who are lawyers and investigators…whatever it is, we can fix this."

"Not this."

"I don't understand. You're talking about something from more than twenty-five years ago. It can't be that bad. It's…"

"Danny," she interrupted, and then she raised her head up to look at me, and her eyes were red and damn, I just want to make everything better for her.

I want to make whatever it is go away.

But then she said the last thing I was expecting.

"You can't fix it. I committed a felony."

TBC...


	13. Chapter 13

**John Strathmore POV**

* * *

><p>This was absolutely not in the playbook.<p>

I wasn't supposed to be here.

Not like this.

Never once did I consider that I'd find myself face down on Mike's front porch with Mary's knee jamming into my back and her gun pointed at my head.

"Don't move, asshole, or I'll blow your head off!" she yelled.

And yeah, okay, so this _should've_ been in my playbook.

Because obviously she's a little on edge and me showing up in the middle of the night is actually, now that I'm thinking about it, downright stupid.

But my plan had been to _call_ her from the front porch.

And I think if I'd followed through with that, I probably would've been okay.

She would've woken up to the buzzing of her phone, she'd be happy to hear my voice, and then I could say _guess what – I'm standing outside the door._

And I'm pretty sure I would've ended up getting lucky tonight.

However…that's not what happened.

Because prior to going through security at the airport, I'd tossed my cell phone into my carry-on, along with everything else from my pockets. That way, I didn't have to unload my wallet and keys and such into the little plastic bin.

I don't like doing that, having my stuff out there for the world to see. If I put it in the bag so that it goes through the scanner, then all is good without me flashing around the expensive things that I keep in my pockets.

That being said, it slipped my mind to get the phone back out until I arrived on the front porch.

And it shouldn't have been that hard.

I mean, I'd snagged the wallet easily enough when it was time to pay the cabbie.

And yeah, I could've called Rocco, but I figured a cab ride like a normal person wouldn't kill me and it's the middle of the night and this was an unexpected trip home, so why should I wake him up?

Anyway, I got out my wallet and paid the taxi driver, and then went up the steps to the front door.

I set down my duffle bag and then knelt down, feeling around inside for the phone.

Nothing.

I got more serious about it, and then my briefcase that was slung over my shoulder fell forward, dropping onto the porch, and as I was out there fumbling around, I started to think that maybe I should've thought about my phone while I was still in the cab.

Although the porch light was on so that helped, but still…it's three o'clock in the morning.

I finally got my hands on the elusive device, so I stood up as I opened the phone, intent on calling Mary because I literally don't want to wait another minute to see her and then suddenly the front door flew open and the burglar alarm sounded and before I could react, I was whirled around and thrown down to the concrete floor of the porch.

I'm pretty sure my phone is a crumpled pile of plastic underneath me, and it's very possible that I'm bleeding from my nose.

"John?" she questioned as she eased up slightly on the pressure she was applying against my head.

"Mary, what the…John?"

That was Mike.

I could barely hear him over the obnoxiously loud alarm, and lights were coming on all up and down the block as neighbors were awakened by the sound, and then finally, things went completely silent.

"You were really trying to sneak up to a house with a security system rivaling that of Fort Knox?" Carolyn asked me as Mary finally moved off of me and let me roll over.

"Not to mention the three armed and anxious people who were sleeping inside," Mike added.

I ignored them and just looked at Mary.

She was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of my t-shirts, one I've had since college.

I've never seen her look more beautiful.

Or pissed.

"I could've killed you," she said gruffly.

I hadn't made any move to get up yet, and neither had she. She was on her knees next to me where I was sprawled out on the porch.

"You're bleeding," Carolyn pointed out.

"I'm fine."

"You want me to get you…" Mike began.

"I think we're good, Mike," I interrupted. "You can go back to bed."

"Oh, yeah…because we're going to sleep _now_," he said sarcastically. But I heard him step back inside as he clicked his weapon's safety back on.

"I'm glad you're back," Carolyn said as she followed Mike inside. "Don't hurt him, Mary."

"Reset that alarm when you come in!" Mike called out.

Mary continued to glare at me until we heard footsteps on the stairs.

"Surprise," I said weakly.

"I can't believe you were trying to come in the house _unannounced_. I'm serious, John, I really could've shot you."

"I wasn't trying to come in. I was trying to find my phone so that I could call you. How was I supposed to know you guys have bionic ears?"

She dropped her head as she blew out an irritated breath.

"Mary, are you mad at me?"

"What do you think? You think I like pointing a gun at you?"

"And you're frustrated…annoyed…"

"Well…yes," she answered.

"You're in sweatpants and my torn shirt, and your hair's messy…"

"Yes, thank you for pointing that out."

"And I'm laying here flat on my back, with a bloody nose and bruised pride. I'd say that's about as unromantic as it gets, wouldn't you?"

"Were you going for romance tonight, John? Because yeah, I'd say that ship has sailed. I'm…God, I can't get my heart rate back to normal, and…"

"Mary…"

"What?" she asked in exasperation.

"Marry me."

She stared at me and I was suddenly filled with panic.

What if she really _is_ mad at me and she tells me to go to hell?

"I can't believe you just said that," she said at last, her expression inscrutable.

"Why not? I haven't been shy about what I want."

"I know, but…you wouldn't ask me on Friday when I wanted you to and yet _now_ you think it's a good time?"

"If you say yes now, then…"

"You'll know I mean it," she finished on a sigh.

And I thought my heart was racing _before_.

Now it was positively about to explode out of my chest.

Was I misreading the situation?

Was she really _so_ mad that my impromptu proposal was a mistake?

She still held her gun in her hand, but now she finally set it down and then she moved over me, straddling me as I lay supine on the porch.

"You've completely lost your mind," she stated.

"What's your point?"

"You flew seven hours, in the middle of the night…"

"Just to see you. Because I can't stay away. Doesn't that tell you something?"

She leaned down over me and then paused and used her hand to wipe away some of the blood from my face.

"You're a mess," she said with a smile.

"Yeah, well remind me never to challenge you to a duel. You know, I thought I was coming here to be the stud and save the day, but you totally kicked my ass. The bad guys should be grateful that they didn't try to come here."

"You did save the day," she said softly, and then finally she brought her lips to mine.

I felt like a lifetime had passed since the last time we kissed, even though it was less than two days.

And despite our current location, we kept going.

She leaned more heavily against me, bringing even more intensity into the kiss and I couldn't resist running my hands beneath her shirt, touching that soft skin that I can't stop thinking about, even when I'm half a world away.

I tightened my grip on her, pulling her down against me, but as she shifted her leg, we heard a crunching sound.

"Oh, I think that's your…"

"Yeah, my phone," I said on a chuckle. "I think that happened when I did the face plant."

"I'm sorry."

"No, _I'm_ sorry. All I could think about was coming here to see you, and it didn't occur to me that things might go…horribly awry."

She smiled and then kissed me again.

"Does this feel awry to you?"

"Well, not exactly," I replied with a grin.

"Then what do you say we go inside and properly break in the guest bedroom."

"I don't know. I'm feeling pretty good right where I am."

"You do feel good," she agreed as she rocked against me. Then she reached for the hem of her t-shirt and said, "Okay, I'm game. Let's do it here."

And as much as I wanted to let her whip off that shirt so that I could see what I'd been feeling for the past couple of minutes, we were basically under a spot light here, on the porch with the light shining on us while the rest of the neighborhood was back under the cover of darkness.

"Uh uh. I don't want to share you with anyone," I said, putting my hands over hers to stop the motion. "Let's go inside."

"Chicken," she teased as she stood up.

She held her hand out to me, helping me to my feet, and then I picked up my duffle and my briefcase while she snagged her gun and my broken phone.

"I'll buy you a new phone," she promised as we went inside.

"No you won't."

"John…"

"Right now, I don't want you thinking about anything but me," I argued lightly.

Without another word, she locked the door and reset the alarm, and then led the way upstairs to the bedroom where she was staying.

Once we were inside, I dropped my things to the floor and pulled her into my arms.

She hadn't answered my proposal, but I wasn't going to worry about that now.

Like I've said, I'm a patient man.

And no answer was better than a _no_ answer.

"I was worried about you," I said quietly. "No more meetings in London."

"You finished brokering the deal?"

"Not yet, no. But I told them that next time they can come to me, or we can Skype it. I don't want to be so far away from you."

"I know how to take care of myself."

"That doesn't mean you should have to. At least not all the time."

"You want to marry me so that you can take care of me?"

And okay, so maybe she wasn't ignoring the proposal.

Maybe she was still thinking about it.

"I want to do that either way, even if you never marry me."

I reached for her shirt, deciding to gloss over the topic for now. If she wants to say yes, then she'll come back to it when she's ready.

So I pulled off her shirt and then hugged her to me again, loving the feel of her against me.

And maybe that assertion about me being a patient man is slightly misleading.

Because I suddenly felt extremely _im_patient.

I took her face in my hands and brought my mouth down to hers, infusing a blend of need and emotion into the kiss.

"God, I missed you," I murmured as I tore my lips away from hers and moved down her neck.

"Yeah, it's probably tough to find sarcasm in London," she joked. She was working furiously on the buttons of my dress shirt while I shoved my hands down the back of her pants, pushing the material off of her hips. "And it's not fair that you're wearing so many more clothes than me. And what are these things…buttons or some kind of medieval…"

She stopped mid-sentence and just pulled my shirt apart, having given up on undoing the buttons.

She whipped it down my arms and then immediately reached for my t-shirt and pulled it over my head. I put my foot on her sweatpants that were now pooled at her feet and she stepped out of them, moving closer to me as she tugged on my belt.

My control was wearing thin as she quickly and efficiently took off my pants and then finally we were down to skin on skin and I just couldn't wait another second.

I had to have her.

She started kissing me again, and without losing contact with her, I turned us around and pushed her down onto the bed. Then without hesitation, I drove into her, and I had the overwhelming feeling of _finally_, and I forgot about the fact that we're across the hall from my brother, and about the idea that she still hasn't said that she'll marry me…I forgot about everything except the feel of her and the taste of her and the fact that I love her so damn much.

It was over much too soon, because honestly, if it were up to me, I could do it all night, but certain parts of me have other ideas and I suppose it's a good thing because it's four in the morning and she has to go to work in a few hours, so…

"I'm keeping my job," she said quietly once we were finished and had moved under the covers.

"Your job? Why wouldn't you?"

"And I want a pre-nup," she continued.

"What? Why?"

"I don't ever want our marriage to be about money."

Our marriage.

I love the sound of that, and I found myself smiling in the darkness.

"It won't be. It's not."

"Good. Then we'll do a pre-nup. Oh, and I think you should name Mike in your will."

"I've already done that."

"Of course you have," she replied, and I could tell that now she's smiling, too. "That's what kind of man you are. But so keep it like that. Don't name me."

"We'll see," I said vaguely.

She didn't say anything else for a minute, so then I had to ask.

"So..."

"So what?"

"So...is that a yes?"

"Are you really sure you want to ask the question? Because you know, I'll keep sleeping with you either way. You're pretty good at it. And a smart businessman should know that you never buy the cow when you can get the milk for free."

"Mary...I want to buy the cow."

"Ah…the romance," she said as laughter rolled through her.

"You know what I mean. Don't leave me hanging. Are we doing this?"

"You really want me to be your wife? You know how I can be sometimes. Well, most of the time. I mean, I'm not the most amicable person in the world."

"Are you trying to talk me out of it?"

"I'm trying to make sure that you're sure."

"I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life."

"There you go, being sweet again. You know, I'm not sure if this is going to work out between us. You're so nice and I'm so…not."

"Mary…"

"Yes," she said, shifting in my arms so that she could kiss me. "Yes, I'll marry you."

She kissed me again, and this time it was lingering and tender, and she can try to say that she's not sweet, but I know the truth.

I've seen what's behind her tough exterior.

"You know, you've got some really good moves," I said once she got situated, laying on her side with her back to me. I put my arm around her, bringing her back snugly against me and said, "I've seen you in action before, but this was really up close and personal."

"You've seen me about as up close and personal as it gets," she replied, pushing back against me in a way that sparked off a fresh wave of arousal.

"You know what I mean. You took me down in about two seconds."

"We get good training," she reasoned. "It's a dangerous job. We have to know how to defend ourselves."

"Well, and you have that gun. It has to help to know you can shoot someone if you need to."

"Uh huh. They also teach us how to…"

She trailed off and I could feel her entire body tense up.

"How to what?"

"How to take a gun from a perp," she said thoughtfully. "I wonder…I need to call Liz."

She slipped out of my embrace and sat up in bed, reaching towards the nightstand to turn on the lamp.

"Not right now," I said. "It's four-thirty."

"Yeah, but…okay, yeah," she conceded. "I guess it can wait another hour or two."

"What can wait? What do you need to ask?"

"I'm wondering if she checked Anna for GSR."

"Why would she? She's the victim."

"Exactly. But we've been wondering why the guy killed her so quickly."

"He didn't plan on it," I said as it dawned on me where she was going.

"It's a possibility. It would also explain the peri-mortem beating."

"Because he wouldn't want you to know that he struggled with her. He'd want you to think that everything's going according to plan."

"You're not just another pretty face, are you?" she said with a smile. "But yeah, if we can find evidence that killing her like that _wasn't_ his plan…"

"How will that help?"

"It makes this guy more vulnerable. It says that maybe he didn't get any information out of Anna. And it tells us that he's not above making mistakes."

"Which means he'll be easier to catch."

"Exactly," she said as she turned the lamp off again and then moved back in front of me.

She sighed heavily as she relaxed against me.

"Are you okay?" I asked quietly.

"I'm tired," she admitted. "But I've never felt better. You really want to marry me?"

"Yes."

"Crazy, crazy man," she murmured.

"Crazy like a fox."

"A deranged, rabid fox maybe."

I barked out a laugh and nudged her, encouraging her to roll over. She moved onto her back and I stretched out over top of her.

"I'll show you deranged," I said, still chuckling as I leaned down to kiss her.

That spark that she'd ignited a few minutes earlier was now a full-blown flame.

We let the kiss go on for several minutes and then I made myself stop.

"I'm sorry. You're tired," I said as I started to ease off of her.

She grabbed onto my butt and said, "You need to finish what you started."

"But you're…"

"Awake. And if you take your time and do it right, then when we're finished, I can call Liz."

"Do it right?" I laughed. "Are you saying I didn't do it right before?"

"No, I'm just saying…you know, you can't slack up now that I said yes. I know how you businessmen are. You seduce the client to make the deal and then after they've signed on the dotted line…"

"You haven't signed anywhere yet. And besides, I'm not that kind of businessman. I always make good on my word."

"Yeah, you do, don't you?" she replied.

Yes, I do, and tonight wasn't any different.

Since the urgency from earlier was assuaged, I was able to take my time.

And the funny thing about Mary…or rather the extraordinary thing, I guess I should say…is that when I'm with her, I don't think about anything or anyone else.

I haven't been able to say that about anyone since Heidi, and even with her, it wasn't quite like this.

During the past ten years, once I got to the point where I was having sex, the challenge was gone and my mind was already moving on to the next thing.

With Mary, there _is_ no next thing, because this is where I want to be.

And now, knowing that she's going to be my wife…it just makes it that much better.

So it was definitely late enough to call Liz by the time we finished.

"You're there now?" I heard Mary say. I gave her a quizzical look and she quirked an eyebrow back at me. It was only six o'clock, so Liz must have really gone in early. Or maybe she never went home. I guess it's hard to say with a medical examiner.

"Yes, please," Mary added. Then she put her hand over the phone and looked at me and said, "She's going to do it now. It only takes a second."

"Good. So if it's there, that'll be good news, right?"

"Kind of, yeah. It'll slightly change the scope."

"It'll mean she got the gun and actually got a shot off, right?"

"Possibly," she answered. She started to say more, but then Liz must have come back on the line, because she held up a finger to me and said, "Yes. Okay…great. Thanks."

She hung up and took a deep breath.

"Well?" I asked.

"Positive for GSR."

TBC...


	14. Chapter 14

**Liz POV**

* * *

><p><em>I committed a felony.<em>

The words still echo in my brain even now, hours after I said them to Danny.

And in his defense, he stayed fairly calm.

"_When you were a kid,"_ he stated.

"_I was a week away from being eighteen,_" I clarified.

"_Okay. So…no offense, but you're a long way from eighteen. Why would someone be looking for you about that now?"_

"_Danny, did you hear what I said_? _I committed a felony. I'm married to the chief of D's. I don't think the why part really matters."_

My adrenaline started pumping at that point, and I got up out of the bed and began pacing around the room.

"_Liz…tell me about what happened."_

"_No."_

"_No? Just like that?"_

"_If I tell you, then you'll be an accessory after the fact. You'll be obligated to turn me in, or you could face charges yourself."_

"_Surely there's a statute of limitations involved. Unless…I mean…you didn't kill anyone, right?"_

"_You mean other than Pebo?_" I asked as my agitation increased. "_No. He was my first."_

"_Then whatever you did…it's done. It's in the past."_

"_How can you be so callous about it?"_ I fired back, turning my frustration onto him.

"_I'm not being callous. But what else do you want me to say? I don't even know what you did."_

"_And you're not going to know,_" I said.

I opened the drawer and pulled out a fresh pair of scrubs and began hastily getting dressed.

"_Where are you going?"_

I looked down at myself and then back at Danny and said, "_To the symphony. Where does it look like I'm going?"_

"_Liz," _he began as he got up and walked towards me._ "You're overreacting. First of all, you don't even know what the caller wanted. It wasn't the police, or they would've identified themselves. And like I said, too many years have passed for you to be held accountable for whatever it is that you did."_

He made a valid point.

Which made the possibilities even worse.

"_I'm going to work_," I stated, grabbing up my tennis shoes and sitting down on the edge of the bed to put them on.

"_It's three o'clock in the morning_."

"_I have plenty to do there. And it's not like I'm going to go to sleep."_

_"Liz, wait…"_

He knelt down in front of me, putting his hands over mine, and then he looked at me with a pleading expression, silently begging me to let him in.

"_I can't tell you_," I said quietly. "_It's a time of my life that I'm really not proud of, and that's why I've worked so hard to put it behind me."_

"_You think it'll make me love you less?" _

_"I know it will."_

_"That's impossible."_

I closed my eyes and took a moment just to breathe.

It was easy for him to say he'd never stop loving me, but he doesn't know.

I wasn't able to look at myself in the mirror for the longest time, and then I finally decided that I had to make something of myself and make it all worthwhile, and over the course of the last three decades, I was able to do just that.

And now…now I don't know what's going to happen.

And I _hate_ uncertainty.

But I also hate having a secret from Danny.

Before that first phone call this morning, I'd honestly completely forgotten about the whole thing.

So the fact that I never told him didn't really feel like I was keeping a secret.

It was more like a repressed memory, one that was now being painfully forced to the forefront.

So _now_ if I continue to keep it from him, it'll be me having a secret.

And he'll _know_ that I have a secret.

And it'll end up being a sore spot between us.

And dammit, why did this have to happen now?

We've been doing so great lately.

"_Give me some time,"_ I said at last. _"I want to sort it out in my own mind first. And then I'll tell you."_

"_Okay_," he agreed. "_But I'd like to pull the LUDs on our phone and find out where the call originated. If it is cops, then I need to know about it so that we can get ahead of it."_

I nodded my agreement, and he settled his hand on my cheek.

"_I love you,"_ he said firmly. "_Whatever this is, we'll take care of it."_

_"I'll bring lunch to your office,"_ I offered. _"And we'll talk then. I just need to…be alone. For just a little while."_

So I kissed him and left him alone in our bedroom. Slipping out the front door, I went to my car and started the engine, and then I sat and thought about what I wanted to do next.

Although actually, I think I probably already knew what I planned to do from the moment I got out of bed.

I drove to Sing Sing.

It only took me forty-five minutes, since there aren't very many cars on the road at this time of day.

By the time I parked and went up to the front desk, it was almost four o'clock. It's not standard protocol for prisoners to get visitors in the pre-dawn hours, but I know how to work the system.

The flash of any kind of official badge, accompanied by a twenty dollar bill will usually do it.

I didn't want to risk being declined this time, so instead of a twenty, I laid down a fifty as I showed my OCME badge.

"_I need to see Jeff Anderson_," I stated.

"_You realize what time it is, right_?" the desk sergeant asked as he slid the fifty dollar bill closer to him.

"_I can tell time. I need ten minutes with him_."

He stared at me for a minute and punched a few keys on his computer before buzzing someone in another room.

"_Wake up Jeff Anderson, prisoner number 6458933. Put him in Room C."_

He clicked off the intercom after getting an affirmative response and then looked at me.

"_I need you to take off your coat and empty your pockets_," he began, and then he finished the process of checking me in and within another minute, I was sitting in a chair in Room C, wondering what in the hell I was doing.

I almost changed my mind, but then the door opened.

"_It's common fucking courtesy to…holy shit! Beth?"_

"_Sit down_," the guard said roughly, shoving Jeff down into the chair across from me. Then the guard looked at me and said, "_You want me in or out_?"

"_We're fine. You can wait outside_."

The guard looked dubious for a moment and then he left us alone.

"_Beth, it's been a long time, but you still look…"_

"_Stop it_," I said sharply. "_Whatever the hell you're doing, just stop."_

_"What?"_

_"What's the deal here? Are you getting ready to get out or something?"_

_"Yeah, but…"_

_"It's gone, okay? I don't have it anymore, so call off your dogs and quit harassing me."_

_"Beth, I'm…"_

_"I mean it,"_ I said, and by this point I was standing up, leaning over the table yelling. "_It has to stop."_

He leaned back in his chair and looked at me in that slow, appraising way of his that always used to get me going.

Three decades in the slammer had surely made him harder, but he hadn't lost his looks.

"_Listen to me, honey_," he said carefully. "_I'm sorry someone's screwing with you, but it's not me. I don't feel anything but love for you, okay?"_

_"But…" _I said, and then I trailed off because I wasn't sure what else to say. I'd convinced myself that he was behind it, but now…now I have no idea.

"_No buts_," he said. "_I don't even know what it is that you don't have, so why would I be looking for it?"_

_"Oh. Okay,"_ I said, the wind having been sucked from my sail. "_Um…I'm sorry I woke you up then."_

_"Honey, you can wake me up any time. I seem to remember one particularly nice way you had of doing that,_" he said with a smile.

I couldn't help but smile back. The man has charisma in spades.

"_And now that's how I wake up the chief of D's_," I told him. "_He's my husband_."

"_Impressive. And you're a doctor_," he said, nodding his head towards my badge that was clipped on the hem of my scrub top. "_Maybe everything happens for a reason, huh?"_

_"That's a putting a positive spin on things."_

"_What can I say? I'm a glass-half-full kind of guy."_

_"Time's up!"_ the guard said, sticking his head into the room.

"_It's fine. We're done,"_ I told him as I headed for the door. I looked at Jeff and added, "_Take care of yourself."_

_"You, too,"_ he said pointedly. Then he smiled and said, "_And Beth…you're even hotter now than you were back then. When I get out..."_

_"When you get out, I'll still be married."_

_Hopefully, _I thought to myself, and then I said aloud_, "But good luck to you."_

So I left Sing Sing and drove back into the city.

I barely remember the drive, but somehow I ended up at the morgue.

I went into my office and sat down at the table and put my head in my hands.

Things make less sense now than they did before my trip to the prison, because now I not only have the current mystery, but I also have the one from thirty years ago.

Because Jeff said he didn't know what I was talking about.

And he's a lot of things, but he's not a liar.

I got out a notebook and a pen so that I could write down all of the facts in hopes that maybe I could shed some light on things, but that was when my phone rang.

It was Mary, asking me to run a GSR test on Anna's hands.

It's a simple test, so I handled it quickly and gave her the results.

Positive.

Which meant that either Anna had fired a gun in the last hours prior to her death, or at the very least, her hand was in very close proximity to a gun when it was fired.

And that might have made sense if there had been stippling on her head, but there wasn't, indicating that the shot had been fired from a few feet away, in which case her hand couldn't have gotten incidental GSR.

So that added a new twist to the case, but I was going to have to let them sort it out.

_Because I committed a felony._

I'd really like to get Alex to help me sort out my mess if she wasn't already in so deep with this other case.

Because something's telling me that I'm missing something glaringly obvious, but considering my state of distress, I'm not exactly working at full capacity.

_If only I knew a cop who was willing to help,_ I thought sarcastically.

And just as I was thinking about him, I got a text.

_**How about breakfast instead of lunch?**_

I quickly typed my reply, deciding that I was ready to talk to him.

More than ready.

_**That sounds great.**_

"I was hoping you'd say that."

I looked up to see Danny coming into the autopsy suite, his phone in one hand and a bag in the other.

"What if I'd said no?" I asked, smiling as I walked over to him.

"I can be pretty persistent," he replied. I took the bag from him and set it down on the table and then pulled him into a hug.

"I love that about you," I said. "And I'm sorry I walked away. I just needed to get my head straight."

"And is it now?"

"As much as it can be. But I'm going to need your help, I think."

"That's all I've been trying to do," he replied.

"I know. So…okay. Let me start at the beginning."

TBC...


	15. Chapter 15

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>Morning came much too soon for my liking.<p>

It's a difficult thing for me sometimes.

Especially now that I'm with Bobby.

It used to be that I loathed the alarm clock because it pulled me out of some particularly steamy dream, something in which Bobby was always a key player.

I remember a little more than a year ago, when Bobby was on suspension and I accompanied him a time or two to Lewis' garage…those visits always prompted some seriously erotic dreams stemming around Bobby in snug-fitting jeans and a black t-shirt and he'd have a little bit of grease on his face and his hair would be messy and his hands…his large, slightly rough, and oh-so-skilled hands…in my dreams, those hands would reach for me, they'd slide beneath my shirt and stroke over my skin…

In one version of the fantasy, we did it right there on the hood of the Shelby and it was just so…_hot_.

So it has to be understandable why I grew to hate my alarm clock.

Being pulled from a dream world where Bobby was undoing his jeans while I watched, waiting anxiously, laying back on the steel hood of the muscle car…yeah.

It really sucked.

And now…now I have the real thing next to me every night, so the alarm clock doesn't bother me so much as what it represents.

It means I have to leave my warm bed, where I'm snuggled next to my husband, who can't seem to get enough of touching me.

"Do we have to get up?" I asked rhetorically when the alarm sounded.

"No," he said as he reached over and hit the button. "But we probably should."

"We're meeting at eight, right?"

"Uh huh," he answered, rolling towards me and then moving over top of me, resting his forearms on either side of my head.

As amorous as Bobby can be at night, he's even more so in the morning.

We don't always have time for it, but if we do…

"I can be ready in thirty minutes," I offered. "You?"

"Less than that. And thirty minutes to get there…that leaves us another half an hour. We can either use it to eat breakfast or…"

"Or we can eat while we drive to work," I said with a smile.

"I love the way you think," he murmured as he brought his lips down to mine.

And okay, so _this_ part of the morning can never come too soon.

It's the part that comes _after_.

When I have to get out of bed.

And even though we'd quickly planned out our morning schedule, allowing ourselves thirty minutes to make love, it ended up taking us slightly longer, so I let Bobby drive us to work while I put on my make-up in the car.

When I finished, I pulled out the bagel that I'd snagged from the kitchen and we traded bite for bite. Well, it was actually more like my one to his two, but that's appropriate.

We made it to 1PP with five minutes to spare. Just enough time to get inside and ride the elevator up to the eleventh floor.

"Was it worth having to rush?" he asked me as we stepped into the squad room.

"Are you kidding me? Next time I'll finish getting dressed in the car, too, and that'll give us three more minutes."

He chuckled at me and together we walked down the hall towards the conference room.

We could hear Mary's voice as we approached.

"Where's Daniels?"

"I…don't know."

That second voice was Dunn.

"You know, you don't have to do that," Mary told her.

"Do what?"

"Drive separately. I'm okay with it."

Bobby and I slowed our pace so as not to interrupt what sounded like might be a private conversation.

The others must not have arrived yet.

"I'm sorry…okay with what?"

"Listen, I know it's probably frowned upon at the office, and I can understand why you want to use a little discretion, but trust me…I honestly don't care. And as your team leader, I think we need to have an open line of communication."

I glanced at Bobby inquisitively, but he just shrugged.

"We should probably go in," he said quietly. "Otherwise it'll just seem like we're eavesdropping."

"Mary, I have no idea what you're talking about," Dunn was saying as we entered the room.

Mary looked over at us and gave us a nod and then turned back to Dunn.

"I'm talking about Daniels."

Dunn shifted her eyes from Mary to me and Bobby.

"Sorry to interrupt," I said. "Should we go back out?"

"You're fine," Mary said. "I was just trying to explain to her that some of the best detectives I know are in relationships, so…

"Wait," Dunn said, then she smiled and said in her Texas-laced voice, "Do y'all think I'm sleeping with my partner or something?"

"Well, yeah," Mary replied. "Aren't you?"

"I don't think his wife would much care for that," she said, trying to hold back her laughter. "You didn't know that he's married?"

"He's…what? Why didn't I know that?"

"Probably because we've only known you for a week and Craig doesn't bring his home life to work with him," Dunn said easily.

"Okay, but…why was I picking up on a vibe between the two of you?" Mary asked, seemingly unwilling to concede that maybe she'd misread the signs.

"Um…he's protective of me, I guess. I got my heart stomped on about a month back and Craig took it more personally than I did," she replied. She shrugged and added, "He said he should've properly _vetted_ the guy before it got serious."

"Oh," Mary said. "Huh. Well, I guess I blew it again. Every time I try to be the cool boss it comes back to bite me in the ass."

"Don't beat yourself up about it," Dunn laughed. "And it's good to know that if I ever do start sleeping with Craig, you'll be okay with it."

Daniels and McInnis came into the room, deep in conversation, and they stopped when they realized we were looking at them.

"What?" McInnis asked.

"Where is it tonight?" Mary questioned, looking at me and Bobby.

The debriefing.

"Steve-O's," I said. "Cutter's coming. Lupo figured he'd be ready for company."

"Good," she said, then she looked back at her team. "Tonight you three are coming to Steve-O's. I'm buying the drinks, and we'll all get to know each other better."

"I don't know, Mary," I said, shaking my head. "That sounds awfully touchy-feely for you. Are there going to be team-building exercises? Do we get to make a tower out of office furniture?"

"Keep it up, Alex," she retorted.

"And what?"

"And I won't tell you my news."

"What news?"

"I guess you'll have to come to the touchy-feely team-building session to find out," she said smugly. Then she looked around the room and said, "And if we're done acting like high school freshman on orientation day, how about we see if we can solve this case?"

"Hey, I was ready ten minutes ago," Bobby said, smirking when she rolled her eyes at him.

"Where are Lupo and Bernard?" I asked.

Daniels took a step backwards, leaning so that he could look out into the hallway.

"They're coming in now," he said. "With coffee."

"Sucking up for being late, no doubt," Mary said. "And for the record, that works on me."

"Sorry," Lupo said as he led the way into the room. He set down a cardboard carrier onto the table and Bernard followed and did the same.

"It's on me," he said. "I overslept."

"It happens," Mary said as she reached for a cup. "If I'd slept, I probably would've overslept, too."

"You didn't sleep last night?" I asked her.

"No, um…no. But I did have a thought about the case, and I had Liz check it out a couple of hours ago. And…" she said, trailing off as she picked up a lab report and held it towards me and Bobby. "There was GSR on Anna's hand."

"Her gun was in her purse, still in the apartment," Bernard said, moving over so that he could read along with us.

"Uh huh," Bobby agreed. "Which means that she got her hands on the perp's gun."

"And she got a shot off," Lupo added. "So what does that tell us?"

"There wasn't any stippling," Dunn spoke up. "So I'm thinking two perps, right?"

"She wrestles with one and gets the gun…she fires at him, and the other one has to shoot her to protect his partner."

"Either that, or the guy had a second piece. She got the one away from him and he pulled out the other."

"What if she hit him?" Lupo posed. "I mean, it had to be fairly close range, and she had to be at least a decent shot."

"But she was under extreme duress," McInnis said quietly. "And she had a head injury."

"It's still not a bad idea to pull the ER reports on gunshot wounds treated over the past thirty-six hours."

"Uh huh. What about CSU? Did they find anything good?" Bobby asked.

"I haven't gotten the report yet," Mary said. "Maybe you and Alex could go take a look at that."

We both nodded in agreement, and then she turned to Daniels and Dunn.

"I'd like for you two to go through the LUDs from Anna's office phone. I got approval to pull them, so you should be able to access them through the marshal portal in the USMS system. We're looking for other calls made to Birmingham, and if there are, we need to see if there's a pattern in the calls made immediately before and after."

"You think she compromised the witness?"

"I don't know."

"She wouldn't do that," McInnis said.

"I hope you're right. But we have to find out for sure."

"What about us?" Lupo asked her.

And true, she's not our boss, but in this type of joint investigation, it worked better to have one person in charge, and considering the sensitivity of dealing with Witsec, it just made sense to let Mary run the show.

"Check out the ER report, and then go shake up Kew Gardens. I know we were there yesterday, but let's do it again. There's a reason why they left her body there, and we need to know what it is."

"So I'm with you?" McInnis asked her.

"Yes. The witness will be here in less than two hours, so you and I need to escort her off the plane and get her to a safehouse."

"It's just going to be the two of you?" I asked her in concern. "What if these guys got wind of the transfer?"

"I don't see how. It's limited to the people in this room and the two marshals assigned to her in Birmingham, along with their boss."

"Yeah, but still…" I argued.

"We'll be fine," she insisted. "And this way, only two people will know where she ends up."

"Let us offer you back-up," Bobby suggested. "We'll stay with you through the exchange and then long enough to make sure you're not being followed, and then you can go your own way and we'll come back here and go through CSU's report."

"There are so many violations in your suggestion that I don't even know where to start," she replied, shaking her head.

"We can do it," Dunn said. "Because they're right. You don't want to do this just the two of you."

"I need you to look through those LUDs, and they're eyes-only for marshals. If she was feeding information to someone, we need to know ASAP."

"It looks like you're stuck with us," I said.

She stared at us for a minute and then said, "Yeah, okay. I don't think the book was designed with this case in mind, and I'm not crazy enough to turn down back up. But vests all the way around, okay? It's going to be a _y_ kind of day."

TBC...


	16. Chapter 16

**Hayes POV**

* * *

><p>"Any progress on your floater?"<p>

"No motive yet, Loo, but I think I might be on to something with his LUDs," I replied. "We're close."

"No family for the guy?"

"No, ma'am."

"Neighbors?"

"Everyone said he was a nice guy who kept mostly to himself."

"That sounds like what people always say about the suspect," she mumbled as she started to walk away. She headed towards her office, calling out over her shoulder, "Okay. Keep me posted."

"We're close?" Eames questioned after our boss went into her office. "To what?"

It was mid-morning on Tuesday and admittedly, my mind had been wandering while I plowed through the LUDs of Derek Gilmore.

Wandering down both good and bad paths, actually.

Because last night…last night Bernard said that he loves me.

It was unexpected, to say the least.

I mean, I'd hoped that we were getting to that point.

Or maybe I should rephrase that.

I was there.

I'm in love with him.

But we haven't been together for very long, and I've also been unintentionally jerking him around a little, considering my moods and emotions have been mercurial at best, so even though I've been in touch with my feelings for him, I didn't expect that he was in that same place with me.

_But he is_, I thought with a smile.

And somehow, hearing his declaration had dissipated my feeling of egregious desperation at Connie's news.

"_Oh, I definitely love you," _he said to me.

And it wasn't a secret that he'd been burned recently.

He'd told me about his prior bad experiences with women, so the fact that he was willing to open up to me means a lot…even if he hadn't meant to say the words out loud just yet, he didn't try to deny it.

"_That's such a relief because I'd really hate to be in love with someone who doesn't love me back," _I responded.

And then we went back to my place, and we didn't talk about Flowers or Schmenke.

Or at least, not at first.

The first thing we did, before we even turned on the lights, was strip each other down. We made love in the living room, and when we finished, and I was holding him securely against me, I said the words back to him.

Not in the obscure way that I'd done it earlier, because he deserved to hear it outright, so that's what I did.

"_I love you, B.,"_ I told him, testing out the feel of the words on my tongue. It felt strange to me, since I've never before said them to any man.

And I mean _any_ man, not even my father, because love was not an emotion we discussed in my house.

Oh, I'm sure it was there. Somewhere, buried under pretentiousness and expectations.

But the words weren't spoken.

And it was even more odd that after I uttered the words to Bernard, while we were still lying on the couch, naked and thoroughly spent, my phone rang, and it was my father.

I wasn't going to answer it because…well, because as I mentioned, we were naked and we were having a moment.

But my father hasn't called me in more than three years, and then it was to tell me that my grandmother had passed, so he didn't have a history of calling without serious purpose.

"_I'm sorry. I should answer it,"_ I apologized after reading the display.

I'd been lucky enough to find the phone in my jacket that was within reach of the couch, so I was still comfortably situated on top of Bernard.

Since I was going to take the call, I started to get up, but he kept his arms around me and said, "_I'm fine right here. Unless you want some privacy."_

"_It's my father,"_ I said with a smile.

"_I won't tell if you don't."_

So I'd answered the phone.

"_Hi, Daddy. What's wrong?" _

"_Something has to be wrong for me to call you?"_

"_Usually, yes. Are you okay?"_

"_I'm perfectly fine. I'm calling to check on you."_

"_Me? Why?"_

"_Clarissa called me and said that you're depressed. Do you need money, dear?"_

Clarissa is my mother, although my father hates referring to her with that descriptive.

Growing up, he insisted that I call him _Daddy_ while he encouraged me to call my mother by her first name.

No passive-aggressive maneuvering going on there.

"_I don't need any money,"_ I assured him. "_And I'm not depressed. In fact, I'm pretty happy."_

I smiled at Bernard and he relaxed a little, since it was obvious there wasn't any crisis going on in my family, and he started running his fingers through my hair.

"_Happy? But she said you're still doing that cop thing."_

Doing the cop thing.

You would think attorneys would have an appreciation for police officers, but not my parents.

"_Yes, I am. And I love it."_

"_She also said that you're still alone. Lauren, when are you going to…"_

"_I'm not alone,"_ I interrupted.

"_You're not?"_

"_No. I met a man. A little more than a month ago_," I told him as a sick feeling filled my stomach.

It made me nervous to tell him, but I'm just so damn happy that I _want_ to tell him. I wanted to tell _both_ of them, but of course my mother found a way to piss me off before I could say it, but still…they're both so sure that I'll never have a life as long as I'm a cop, and I wanted to tell them that they're wrong.

"_That's nice, dear. What does he do?"_

Classic first question.

"_He's a detective in a department called Major Case. It's the best of the best,"_ I said proudly.

"_A cop,"_ he replied with disappointment. "_Lauren…"_

"_Daddy, it'd be great if you'd just be happy for me,"_ I interrupted.

"_How can I when you're throwing your life away_?"

I sat up and then got to my feet, not wanting to yell while laying with Bernard.

"_You don't know one damn thing about my life, so how the hell can you sit there, two thousand miles away, and judge me for what I do?"_ I fired back as I paced around the living room.

And yeah, I usually keep a better handle on my emotions when it comes to my parents, but enough was enough.

Some of my anger was probably there from the Flowers situation, just bubbling under the surface while I focused on the good parts of my life, but my father was expertly bringing it out of me.

"_Language, Lauren,"_ he admonished. "_No man wants a lady with a mouth like a sailor."_

"_Well guess what…I found one who does. One who likes me for exactly who I am."_

I hung up the phone and tossed it onto the chair as Bernard came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me.

"_I _love_ you for exactly who you are_," he corrected.

I relaxed marginally against him, feeling my anger leave almost as quickly as it arrived. It was tough to stay mad when B. has his hands on me.

"_I should've told him that I'm sleeping with you,"_ I said, smiling as he started kissing along the side of my neck.

_"Would that have pushed him over the edge?"_

_"I'm sure he thinks I'm a thirty-five year old virgin, so yes…that would've done it. But then he might've gotten on a plane and that would push _me_ over the edge, so it wasn't worth taunting him."_

My phone started ringing again, but I ignored it. It was my father, surely calling to chastise me for hanging up on him, but I couldn't care less.

I wasn't going to think about my father, or my mother, or Flowers…not anyone but Bernard.

And that plan worked for a while.

"Do you feel like sharing?" my partner asked me as he came around our desks to look at the LUDs over my shoulder.

"Look at this," I said. "He made several calls over the past week to a no name cell."

"So?"

"Who buys prepaids anymore, other than criminals?"

"Some people," he argued lightly. "But I see your point. We should find out who it belongs to."

"Uh huh. And see here? The week prior…more calls to a different prepaid. And right here," I said, tapping on the page. "The prepaid calls last week…more than half of them were immediately followed up with calls made to this number here."

"And who is that?"

"I don't know."

"You haven't looked it up yet?"

"No, I mean, I don't know. It's unlisted and the phone company hasn't responded to my request yet."

"Okay," he said, nodding thoughtfully. "Okay, well, let's see what information we can get on those two prepaids. I notice the one number doesn't call anymore after the second one starts, so…same person with a new phone?"

"That's what I'm thinking. What did you find in the financials?"

"Last month he paid his bills in cash," he replied with a grin.

"Ooh, I'm sniffing out a drug habit here," I said, matching his smile. "Don't you think?"

"I'm definitely on the something-illegal bandwagon," he agreed. "Did you run those numbers on the prepaids? Do we know where they were purchased?"

"I'm doing it now," I said as I punched the numbers into the system. While I waited, I asked him, "So how's Alicia?"

"She got up this morning without throwing up, so that's good," he answered. "Saltines and ginger ale. I gave her some as soon as she opened her eyes and it seemed to help."

"You're such a nice guy," I said, and even though I said it in a teasing voice, I mean it.

"Yeah, well hold off on your assessment because I have to ask you…are you okay?"

"Me? Yeah, why?"

He looked around and lowered his voice and said, "Because you look like hell. When was the last time you slept?"

"Last night," I said, running my hand over my hair self-consciously.

But my answer of last night was slightly misleading.

Because I did sleep, but not for very long.

Bernard and I went to bed shortly after my father's call, and it felt so good to climb under the covers with him after being up all night the night before, and within minutes, I was sound asleep.

Until I smelled Wild Turkey.

"_Do what I say and I won't kill you."_

That was the voice I heard as I was simultaneously shoved against a brick wall.

I could feel the barrel of a pistol against the back of my head as my assailant roughly reached his hand beneath my skirt.

His whole body was pressed against me, pushing me against the wall, and my hands were trapped in front of me, but I still did my best to fight him off.

My struggle was rewarded by him grabbing a fistful of my hair and slamming my face into the wall until I couldn't see straight. Until I could barely even think.

"_You think I'm kidding, bitch? Shut your mouth and keep still_."

I didn't have my gun.

I wasn't on-duty.

In fact, I'd been planning to meet my then-boyfriend for a night of bar-hopping. His idea, not mine, because although I like to relax and have a drink, I'm not much on the whole club scene.

So while I was walking to meet him, I was distracted, silently listing out my objections to the night's plans.

And I can only guess that my inattention made me an easy target.

I should've known better. I'd been in New York a few years at that point. I know to be vigilant.

But that night…

I kept fighting against him, even as he pushed up my skirt again, and then I fought with more desperation as I heard him undo his zipper.

"_I'll make it good for you," _he promised in that voice I'll never forget._ "I'll be the best you ever had."_

And then I heard the incremental click of a hammer being pulled back on a pistol.

That kind of sound on the hammer…that meant it was a revolver. Who uses a revolver these days, except someone who doesn't want to have to pick up his brass?

But that sound caused me to stop struggling.

Because how much pressure would the trigger need before the gun fired?

Very, very little.

And with the gun pressed against the base of my skull, I'd have a zero chance of survival.

So instead of fighting, like I wanted to do with every fiber of my being, I stood still.

Because I wanted to live even more.

"_Lauren, wake up_."

Bernard was shaking me, pulling me from my nightmare, and I realized that my body was soaked with sweat and my face was wet with tears.

"_Lauren…"_

"_I'm awake,"_ I answered, my voice sounding hoarse.

Had I actually been screaming?

Because I didn't that night, but I'd wanted to…and I guess I'd been screaming in my head.

"_You're okay_," he said gently. "_I've got you."_

And he did.

He held me securely in his arms while my heart rate and breathing slowed back to normal.

"_I'm sorry_," I said, several minutes later. "_This is getting to be an annoying habit, huh?"_

_"It's understandable that he's in your subconscious."_

He didn't have to ask what I'd been dreaming about. It made me wonder what I'd done and said while in the grips of my dream.

"_We should've talked about him before we went to bed," _he continued_. "You're still conflicted about what to do."_

_"Oh, I know what I want to do. I want to put a bullet in his head. But I'm not willing to spend out my days in prison, so…"_

_"I'll do it,_" he offered, and I wasn't sure, but it didn't really seem like he was kidding.

"_I don't want you in prison either. But thank you,_" I said. _"I think I need to get something to drink, though. My throat…was I screaming?"_

"_Yes,"_ he answered as we both got up from the bed. I looked at him questioningly and he said, "_You didn't say anything distinctive. But you were thrashing around and…"_

_"Right up until you woke me up?"_ I asked.

For some reason, I needed to know that.

Because I'd recreated the entire rape in my mind, even the part near the end.

When I gave up.

"_Especially at the end_," he said. "_That's why I woke you up."_

We went into the kitchen and I sat at the table while he got out a bottle of water.

"_Do you want to talk about it?"_

"_The dream? You already know."_

He held my gaze for a minute and then sat down across from me and slid the water across the table.

"_Okay," _he said evenly.

I uncapped the bottle and drank half of it and then started to talk.

"_I hate knowing that I quit fighting. And when I was dreaming…right before you woke me up…that was the part when I wasn't struggling any more. I just…let him."_

"_He had a gun to your head,"_ he said firmly, reaching across the table to cover my hands with him. "_You didn't _let_ him."_

"_I know_," I agreed_. _Because rationally, I _do_ know._ "I remember hearing that hammer click back, and…"_

"_It was a revolver?"_

"_Yeah,"_ I said with a small smile. "_I thought that was unusual, too."_

"_It is. It's worth checking to see what kind of gun he used on the other women. Even though we don't have ballistics, if it's the same type of weapon, it'll be one more piece of evidence that lines up."_

"_That's true,"_ I agreed with a nod. _"But yeah, so if you said I was thrashing around, then I guess in my mind I didn't give up. I didn't quit. I just knew I had to be still to survive. Right?"_

"_That's absolutely right," _he said confidently.

I thought about that for a moment and then finished off the water.

"_But so…if he killed someone before. And then after…why didn't he kill me? Even after we found out why he's in prison, I just assumed that he'd escalated."_

"_Me, too,"_ he said. _"I don't know the answer."_

"_I'm going to ask him."_

"_When?"_ he asked, clearly not surprised by my assertion. It was just a matter of whether or not I'd changed my mind about the deal.

"_Your friend Olivia…she's on the up and up, right? I mean, she didn't do what Schmenke's accusing her of doing."_

"_No. She slides around the rulebook sometimes, but not on something like this. And if she'd remembered him, she would've mentioned it to me, I'm sure of it."_

"_Okay. I'm going to tell Connie to pull the deal,"_ I said. _"And then I'll go. Afterwards, she can put it back on the table, except for fifteen years instead of ten. He can either take it, or we'll go to trial. I trust Connie to be able to get the motion denied."_

"_Are you sure?"_

"_Yes. I want to be done with this once and for all. And I have a few things I want to ask him,"_ I replied. "_You're still coming with me, right?"_

"_Are you kidding me? Try to stop me."_

We went back to bed shortly thereafter, but it took a long time for me to fall asleep. And it took Bernard even longer, because I fell asleep to the feel of his fingers in my hair. The alarm clock got abused this morning, when Bernard banged on it repeatedly, hitting the snooze button, and as a result, I'm sure he was late for work. I made it on time, but just barely, and he was picking up Lupo first, so…

But yeah, so that's why I currently look like hell.

I've got bags under my eyes, and I know I'm looking a little pale.

"You slept last night?" Eames questioned. "Are you sure?"

I rolled my eyes at my partner, but then bit back my smartass response when the computer finally brought up the information on the prepaid phones.

"Here we go," I said as I read over the results.

"Well, that's a little strange, don't you think?" Eames asked, reading over my shoulder.

"More than a little," I agreed as my cell phone started ringing. I glanced at the display and saw that it was Bernard. I looked back at Eames and said, "Tell Loo. We'll go check out the one place, and we'll have to make a call about the other."

He nodded and headed for our boss' office as I answered my phone.

"Hayes."

"I can't remember if I said I love you before I left for work this morning."

"You did," I said with a smile.

"And did you say it back?" he asked teasingly.

"You know I did."

Because after I said it back to him this morning, he'd pinned me against the door, thoroughly kissing me before we left the apartment.

"If you're wanting me to say it again, you're out of luck," I told him quietly as Eames hurried back towards our desks. "Eames and I are hitting the road, tracking down a prepaid cell."

"Oh. Progress on your case, huh?" he asked, easily shifting into work mode.

"Sort of," I replied, following Eames out of the squad room and onto the elevator. "Our vic was actually calling and receiving calls from two different prepaids, but it's going to take us longer to get details on the other one because it was purchased in Birmingham, so…"

"Birmingham?" he interrupted. "Alabama?"

"Um…yeah," I said. "Why?"

"Shit," he muttered. "Okay…um…hey, Lupes!"

I waited while he said something to his partner, and then he came back on the phone.

"Lauren, I need you to do something for me, without asking questions. I might be wrong, and if I am, I'm sorry for wasting your time, but if I'm not, this is really important."

"Okay."

"You and Eames gather everything you have on your victim and come to 1PP."

TBC...


	17. Chapter 17

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

><p>"You made this trip every day, huh?"<p>

"Every single miserable day."

"I wish I'd known you back then."

"No, you don't."

"You don't think I would've loved you then?"

"I don't see how."

"Yeah, but you don't see how I love you now, so your argument doesn't hold much weight," I said playfully, leaning into Mike as we both stood along the railing of the Staten Island Ferry.

We'd heard the traffic report this morning just in time, and learned that the V-N Bridge was shut down, so instead of heading south through Brooklyn, we'd made our usual drive into Manhattan and then hopped the ferry.

And it was actually kind of a nice way to start the day.

The sun was shining and the sky was clear…it almost made me forget the fact that we were headed back out to the site where six bodies had been found.

"I'm just saying…I was the kind of guy who let my temper get the best of me."

"You were the kind of guy who didn't quit," I said firmly. "I mean, think about it. Your suspension would've been the perfect opportunity for you to give the NYPD the finger, but you didn't. You stuck it out and worked out your penance, and look where you are now."

"I'm married to the most beautiful woman this side of the Mississippi."

"Only this side?" I teased, resisting my urge to dispute his assertion that I'm beautiful.

"Well, the other side, too," he replied with a grin. "In fact, I think it's safe to say that there's not a more beautiful woman in the world."

"Okay, now you're just completely full of shit," I said on a laugh. "You should've just quantified it by saying the north end of our street and maybe I would've believed you, because you know Alex lives ten blocks south, and then Lauren is only a few miles away from them, and…"

"And neither of them hold a candle to you," he insisted. Then he checked his watch and asked me, "Are we on the clock yet?"

"Why?" I asked coyly, knowing exactly why he was asking.

"Because I think maybe I met up with my partner before I got to properly say goodbye to my wife."

And there it was.

That look of his that I can feel in the pit of my stomach.

It makes me throw my normally-intact caution to the wind.

"I don't think we clock in until the ferry docks on the island," I replied, and I let my gaze wander from his eyes down to his mouth and then back up again.

He eased a little closer to me, slowly as though we had all the time in the world, and I wanted to grab him and pull his body against mine, but instead I let him do it his way, and then he finally brought his lips to mine and it was such wonderful, teasing agony because I know that we can't do anything but kiss and yet the way he does it…it makes me want to feel him over me, on me, in me…

He pulled away fractionally and I kept my eyes closed, sighing in both pleasure and disappointment.

"If you'd done that when we were still at the house," I said, trailing off and leaving the rest unsaid.

"Then what?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.

He moved his hand to my cheek and I forced myself to open my eyes because as much as I was enjoying imagining exactly what I'd do to him, I also didn't want to miss out on seeing the emotion that was surely in his eyes.

And I was right about that.

Those eyes of his…if only he'd known the power he held over me back when we were partners the first time around. If he'd ever once looked at me like he's doing now, I wouldn't have been able to stop myself. I would've laid him out over Deakins' desk and had my way with him.

See, a lot of people think of me as cold and unfeeling, but those people don't really know me. They only see the carefully constructed barrier that I had to put up in order to protect myself.

But Mike knows me, better than anyone.

And I don't ever bother trying to hide from him anymore.

I put my hand on his shoulder, urging him closer so that I could whisper into his ear, and then I proceeded to describe to him in detail exactly what I would've done to him.

"We need to turn this boat around," he said.

"Why?"

"Because we need to go back home and start this day again. And if I ever try to leave the house without kissing you goodbye, then please, sweetheart…just shoot me, okay?"

I laughed at his enthusiasm and slid my arms around his waist, hugging him close to me.

And really, I can't complain about the lack of goodbye kiss this morning.

Because even without that, Mike's an extremely ardent and ambitious lover.

I mean, he _did_ have me twice last night.

Once quietly, after we first went to bed. We didn't want to wake Mary up, but Mike tends to be vocal at certain key moments, so I made sure to put my hand over his mouth at just the right time.

And then there was the whole incident with John's arrival.

Why the man didn't just call and say he was on the way, I have no idea.

I mean, okay, I _do_ have an idea.

He was trying to be romantic by showing up on the doorstep, but still…not the best idea when romancing a US Marshal.

So anyway, after getting a full shot of adrenaline due to the sudden commotion at the front door and the burglar alarm, Mike and I went back upstairs.

"_You don't think she broke his nose, do you_?" Mike asked me once we were in bed.

"_No. It was bloody, but it didn't look crooked."_

"_He's lucky she didn't shoot him."_

"_Uh huh. But I think it's sweet."_

"_That she tackled him and held a gun to his head? Sweetheart, you've got a weird interpretation of sweet."_

"_Not that part,"_ I said, laughing as I snuggled closer to him. _"I mean the idea that he flew home early just to be with her."_

"_Well, he's my brother. What'd you expect?"_

"_Good point_," I agreed.

We were quiet for a few minutes and then we heard John and Mary come up the stairs.

The door across the hall closed and then we could hear hushed voices, and I'm not going to say that I was specifically trying to eavesdrop, but I did find myself focusing on the muffled sounds.

Until I heard the springs in their bed.

"_Like I said_," Mike spoke up. "_He's my brother, so what'd you expect_?"

I started laughing, probably more than was warranted from his comment, and yet I couldn't stop.

He started up, too, and I don't know…I guess it was the remnants of the adrenaline or something, but we laid together in the darkness, laughing like pre-teens on a sleepover, until I said, "_You know what I expect?"_

"_What?"_

"_For you to not let your brother show you up."_

"_Is that a challenge_?" he asked, and his voice was low and gravelly.

And I think when I said it, I was only partly serious, but then he shoved the covers out of the way and pounced on me, trapping me perfectly beneath him and I was suddenly completely turned on.

"_Yeah, it's a challenge_," I answered, now slightly breathless as he captured my wrists over my head, holding me still with one of his hands while he used his lips and his other hand to expertly explore and tease, working me up with amazing speed.

"_Well, then_," he replied, pausing for just a moment so that he could look into my eyes. "_I accept."_

Then he smiled that rakish smile of his and I was a goner.

I completely forgot about our need to stay quiet and with the things he was doing to me…well, let's just say there was loud, repeated praise involved and leave it at that.

Today, looking back on it, I can only hope that John and Mary were so preoccupied that they didn't hear us.

And really, so what if they did?

That second time last night was kind of their fault anyway.

I'll have to remember to thank Mary.

The ferry horn sounded, indicating that we were pulling up to the dock, so I reluctantly let go of Mike and led the way back to our car.

"So, did the ME give you any idea as to when he might have IDs and TODs for us?" I asked as we climbed into the car and buckled our seatbelts.

"Wait, so we're on the clock now?" he asked me.

"Don't you think?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"I don't know," he began, but then his cell phone rang. He looked at the display and said, "It's the ME."

"I guess that's your answer then."

He nodded, but then leaned over and kissed me quickly before answering his phone.

Five minutes later, as we drove off the ferry and headed for Westerleigh, he finished his call.

"We don't have much yet," he told me. "But he did confirm that Greg Umsted is the freshest victim. He's about ten days dead, which is three days prior to the killing of Kim Yoo, so that definitively rules him out."

"We need to call Van Buren and toss that murder back to her. It sounds like Yoo's killing doesn't have anything to do with what's going on at Umsted's place. Eames and Hayes were basing that on subway altercations, but maybe that's just the kind of person Umsted was. And they admitted that he was only one of their suspects."

"Maybe. Let's sit on it for another day until we're sure," he suggested.

"Okay. What did he say about the other five?"

"TODs roughly range from three to six weeks. CODs appear to be gunshots, all the way around."

"Huh," I said thoughtfully. "Interesting."

"Uh huh. He still has to confirm it. You know, to make sure the gunshot wasn't overkill or something, but yeah."

"To the head?" I asked him.

"Um…he didn't say. Why, what are you thinking? That we stumbled onto a mob dumping ground?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Text the ME back and ask him. It's not like it'll take him more than a glance to say for sure."

So I pulled out Mike's phone, since he had the Staten Island ME's number in it, and I sent him a text.

"We should interview the neighbors. I know Eames and Hayes already did it, but…"

"Yeah, it sounds like our focus might have just shifted, huh?" he said, flashing me a smile.

"And it's curious that the property owner ended up dead, don't you think?"

"Maybe he got sloppy?"

"Maybe. But no one was looking at him until Yoo got killed, and if Umsted isn't the killer, then that's not really him being sloppy, is it?"

Mike's phone buzzed, so I looked at the answering text from Dr. Grayson, the ME.

_**Five unknowns each have two bullets to the head. Umsted has two to the head and two to the chest.**_

"Boy, it's never cut and dried, is it?" I commented after reading the text aloud.

"No, but I'm starting to think you're onto something with the mob idea."

"You're just now starting to like my idea?" I teased as I slid his phone back into his pocket. "Huh. What happened to the old days when you hung on my every word?"

"Oh, I never did that," he replied. "I just stared at you like that because you're so damn beautiful."

"Uh huh," I said dubiously. "So you say."

"Believe it, sweetheart," he insisted as he pulled over along the side of the road next to Umsted's property. "Would I lie to you?"

We got out of the car and I met him around front.

I had a snappy retort right on the tip of my tongue, but then we heard a man shouting in the house next door.

"Domestic dispute?" Mike suggested as we headed for the source of the argument.

A second voice joined the fray, and the incident seemed to be escalating.

"How convenient for us," Mike remarked. "Maybe they'll shout out a confession."

But that's not what we got.

Instead, when we were about ten feet away from the house, we heard gunfire.

TBC...


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: As some of you may have noticed, I was remiss to mention that this past weekend was a long weekend for me...sorry about that! Anyway, as a result, I'm behind on review replies, so if you wrote one and I didn't respond, THANK YOU! I'll try to get to them soon, but I figured I'd better post before the dogs show up at my house.**

* * *

><p><strong>Bobby POV<strong>

* * *

><p>The transfer went off without a hitch and by lunch time, we were back at 1PP.<p>

We ran into the chief in the elevator.

He looked…tired and frazzled and…distracted.

"Everything okay?" I asked him when he barely nodded at us. He looked up and seemed surprised that Alex and I were in the elevator with him.

"Yeah, um…what are you two up to?"

"Still on that case. We were just…out," Alex said, finishing off vaguely.

"I figured that. And now you're back," he replied smartly. "I guess that means you can't tell me anything."

"You're the chief. We'll tell you anything you want to know," I said.

"No, I trust you," he said dismissively.

The elevator doors opened and we headed for the squad room, with Ross tagging along behind.

"Do you need us for something?" Alex asked him.

"I need…someone," he said as he looked around the room. "But you two are busy. Where are Mike and Carolyn?"

"Sir, we're just getting back, so I have no idea," I answered.

"Huh. Oh, they're probably still out on the island, I guess."

I stopped and blocked him from moving further into the room, and Alex turned around to stand next to me.

"What's going on?"

"I need some help with something. Off the books."

"Jeremy?"

"No, he's fine. He's actually coming to work here today," he said as he checked his watch. "He went to personnel this morning to get the paperwork taken care of and to get an employee ID. He'll probably be up here any time."

"That's good, right?" Alex asked him.

"Yes, it is."

"So…"

"It's Liz," he admitted.

"What's wrong?" Alex questioned with concern.

"More than I can explain in a few minutes, and it looks like you're being summoned."

He pointed past my shoulder and I turned to see Lupo and Bernard in the hallway outside of the conference room, both of them gesturing for us to hurry up.

"They must have something," Alex said.

"My point exactly," Ross said. "So go. I'll find someone else."

"But…" Alex began.

"What are Eames and Hayes doing here?" I asked as I saw them exit the conference room and look in our direction.

"Oh my God…if we took over another one of their cases…" Alex mumbled.

"Let's go find out," Ross said, and then he walked with us over to meet the others.

"Hey, sis," Sean said, and he looked annoyed but only slightly.

Hayes just looked tired.

"Is this a social call?" Ross asked. "Or do you have the worst luck of any two homicide detectives I've ever seen?"

"That second thing," Lauren said with a wry grin. "It's just unbelievable."

"Well, your bad luck is my good fortune. I'm going to call your lieutenant and see if I can steal you for a day or two, if you're both okay with it."

"Sure, Chief."

So the three of them headed off to another conference room, and I watched for a moment.

"Should I call her?" Alex said quietly to me, and I knew right away who she meant.

Liz.

Because what in the world was going on with her that Ross needed to commandeer the time of a couple of detectives?

The last time he'd needed professional services for personal use, Jeremy had been arrested for murder.

"Come on, y'all," Dunn called out. "We need to bring you up to speed."

"Send her a text," I said as I followed Alex into the room.

She nodded and pulled out her phone while I looked around at the others in the room and asked, "So what does their floater have to do with our case?"

"We think he's the third."

"The third what?"

"One down, three to go," Lupo reminded me. "We have the sister and her family, and then the parents, but we were still clueless on that third important party."

"And their guy is the guy?"

"Derek Gilmore. He's the boyfriend."

"Okay," I said carefully. "Didn't we just decide that maybe we were looking for a girlfriend instead?"

"Wait, back up and tell us how you got there," Alex said as she tucked her phone back into her pocket.

"First tell us about the transfer," Daniels spoke up. "It went well?"

"No sign of anyone, anywhere," I confirmed. "We drove around the city for a while before Mary went her own way. There's no way anyone was following."

"Okay, good," Dunn said with a nod. "So, here's what we've got. Our witness, and we may as well call her by name now because…well, _not_ to at this point is just silly…so our witness Christina Cincinelli bought a prepaid cell phone two weeks ago from a bodega in Queens. We've ordered the LUDs on that phone, but for now, we know she was calling the floater, Derek Gilmore, on a fairly regular basis."

"That doesn't have to spell boyfriend," Alex pointed out. "He could've been a business contact or a friend or a booty call."

"A booty call?" Bernard questioned in amusement.

Alex smirked at him and shrugged.

"Well, I think we can rule out your first two options. These were found on Gilmore's cell phone," Daniels said as he spread out several photos on the table. "We printed them out for your viewing pleasure."

"I hope you're kidding," Alex mumbled. "Otherwise, you're just downright disturbing."

"He's kidding," Dunn assured us.

I reached over and picked up one of the pictures.

It was Christina and Derek in an extremely compromising position.

This was where secrecy got us – twenty-four hours wasted.

Because Hayes and Eames found these pictures yesterday, but they didn't know the identity of the woman.

Hell, even if I'd seen them, I wouldn't have known either.

Of course, now I know, because only an hour ago I saw this same woman, flanked by two suits, walking across an isolated tarmac to meet up with Mary and McInnis.

"Okay, so they were either dating or just having sex," Alex said. "What else do we know?"

"Christina bought another prepaid when she got to Birmingham," Bernard stated.

"Which is a blatant violation of Witsec policy," Daniels said. "Not to mention the fact that she then used that phone to continue making calls to this guy, which to me says boyfriend, because I'm sorry but no man is good enough in the sack to be worth risking your life."

"Okay, I'll concede," Alex stated. "So he's a boyfriend."

"A boyfriend who was _not_ disclosed during vetting," Daniels added.

"What's this girl's problem?" Lupo asked. "She's not taking her protection seriously. Doesn't she know about what happened to her brother's family?"

"Yes."

"And are you sure she's on the right side of the law?" I questioned.

"Not really," Daniels admitted. "But she's got dirt on the Albanians, and they issued a call for her head, so...she went to the US Attorney, and now she's our problem."

"It must be really good dirt if they're going through so much trouble to shut her up," Lupo commented.

"And we're not done," Bernard said, holding out a LUD printout for me and Bobby to look at. "Check out the pattern. Calls from the prepaid to Derek were followed up by him making calls to this number."

"Which belongs to…"

"Anna Holly."

"So she knew about the boyfriend?" I asked in surprise. "Why wouldn't she disclose that information?"

"We're not sure, but we do know that the prepaid was also used to call Anna's office. We've gone through those LUDs," Dunn confirmed.

"We texted Mary and told her about the prepaid, so unless Christina tossed it before coming back to New York, she'll be bringing it in. We'll be able to take a look at it and see who else she called without waiting for the LUDs."

"I bet Mary wasn't too thrilled to find out that the witness was so blatant about ignoring the rules," Alex commented.

"No, and I almost wish I was working with her," Dunn remarked.

"Thanks," Daniels said.

"For the transfer," Dunn clarified. "I mean, doesn't it seem like she's got a hell of a temper?"

Alex snorted out a laugh and said, "Mary? You have no idea. But yeah, if your witness had the phone on her, it's safe to say that it's in our possession by now."

"Okay, so back to our theories," I said. "We've got Derek and Christina…"

"And maybe Anna and Christina," Lupo added. "Unless she was lying to Cutter."

"Right. The EADA," Dunn said with a nod. "He doesn't have anything else to add? She didn't say anything to him?"

"They didn't know each other for long."

"And you trust him to be honest?"

"He's the EADA," I said firmly.

She raised her eyebrow at me and Lupo said, "Yes, we trust him. If he knew something more, he would've said it."

"Okay," Dunn said, holding up her hands. "I'm not trying to be insulting. I just need to know. So we know that he said, according to Anna, that she's not into men. And she called Christina, breaching protocol."

"Right, and Derek called both Anna and Christina."

"Some kind of love triangle?"

"Hang on," Alex said. "When would Anna and Christina have met? I mean, did they have long enough to make a connection worth Anna breaking the rules?"

"Not really," Daniels said. "She was brought into us Friday afternoon, and on Sunday afternoon, we moved her."

"Love at first sight?" I suggested.

"It's a myth," Dunn said dismissively.

"Or it's not," Bernard argued pointedly.

"Either way, were Anna and Christina alone together prior to the transfer on Sunday? Where would she have been kept and who was watching her?"

Daniels and Dunn looked at each other for a minute and then Daniels said, "One of the places we use is a hotel in Manhattan. Anna took the first shift, midnight to eight."

"And thus began their affair," Lupo said. "So how does this help us?"

"Well, it definitely tells us that it's a good idea we're bringing Christina here. If Derek knew where she was, and so did Anna, that's too many people in the know. And they're both dead, so…"

"We need to go through Derek's things now that we know about the connection. Hayes and Eames said that he paid his bills last month in cash," Bernard stated. "And he was on a government salary until six months ago. Since then, he's been cleaning boats at a marina near Red Hook."

"Not exactly great pay," Alex said.

"Although maybe he was getting paid in cash," Daniels posed.

"He paid off a credit card," Lupo said as he dug through the papers on the table. "Here it is. Twenty-five hundred dollars, paid two weeks ago. Prior to that, he'd been making the minimum monthly payment."

"Did you get any hits from the ER reports?" I asked Bernard.

"You mean, was anyone shot on Sunday night?" he asked on a chuckle. "Too many people were shot. But there were only four who didn't have ID, and of those, two of them provided false names and addresses. That's our next stop, is to pull the security cameras so that we can get photos of the victims and try to put a name to the face."

"It's probably a wild goose chase, but one we have to do," Lupo agreed. "So we'll do that, and then start knocking on doors. We kind of got sidetracked with the addition of the new victim."

"CSU promised us the report after lunch, so Alex and I will head over there and see what they've got. Scott mentioned some blood in the stairwell, and he was still waiting on the results to confirm that it's Anna's."

"Makes sense," Dunn said. "He knocked her out and then carried her down the stairs in an effort to avoid detection."

"It's ten floors. That's risky. What if Cutter had come to quicker and then just called 9-1-1?"

"Even if Cutter called immediately, the guy could've made it down ten floors," Alex said. "Maybe he had a car waiting outside the fire exit."

"With a driver," I added. "The second perp."

"And then what? Because we know at least one guy was back in front of the building in time to see us get there. And we know Anna was already dead at that point."

"Maybe they shot her in the car. It would've contained the blood and the brass, and we know that a silencer was used when the brother's family was killed, so that would explain why no one heard anything."

I started nodding and said, "She's out cold, so the guy carries her down and tosses her in the backseat, but maybe that's when she started coming around. He gets in after her, she grabs for the gun and gets a round off before the driver can turn around and kill her."

"But she didn't have anyone else's blood on her," Bernard pointed out. "If she shot the guy sitting right beside her…"

"You're right," I agreed.

"She shot the driver," Alex said. "She'd just stolen the gun from one perp, so she'd try to neutralize the other one, the one who was still armed."

"Uh huh," Daniels said. "You're right. She might've shot through the seat."

"And then what? The guy in the back had a second piece?" Lupo asked.

"It makes sense to me," I said. "And a shot through the seat wouldn't have been as accurate. Maybe the guy was able to gut it out while they watched to see who would show up at Anna's apartment."

"So they sat out there and watched, with her dead in the back seat," Dunn said quietly.

"I think so. Lupo, where were your two anonymous ER victims shot?"

"One was in the knee," he began as he found the right report. "And the other was in the side."

Alex caught my eye and gave me a slight nod as she said, "Track him first."

"Okay, it sounds like finding this ER guy might be not so much of a long shot. You two focus on that and Dunn and I will get started in Kew Gardens."

"Alex and I will get the lab report and then I'm going to talk with Mary about arranging a sit down with Christina. I think I want to hear what she has to say."

TBC...


	19. Chapter 19

**Johnny Eames POV**

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><p>I spent all day Monday in the office.<p>

After the visit from Logan, I took a couple of hours to tie up loose ends on previous cases, and those that couldn't be finished just yet, I did what was necessary so that taking a couple of days off wouldn't matter.

And I wasn't actually taking time off, but I _was_ going to devote myself to finding out if there was any truth to Logan's belief that his father was someone other than John Logan.

It was ten when I opened his mother's file, and by ten-fifteen I had to close it again.

I pondered fixing myself a drink at that point.

Something strong.

Like a double shot of Irish whiskey.

I went with coffee instead, due to the early hour, but I wandered around the office for several minutes before I forced myself to go back to the file.

Because Shannon Logan was a vile woman.

For the life of me, I couldn't figure out how she'd managed to bed a man like Henry Strathmore.

And then marry James Malloy.

Both were reputed honorable, stand-up members of society.

Although judging from a couple of the photos that Logan had put in the file, she was a very attractive woman.

Or at least, she had been around the time of John's conception. And not as much so a few years later when she would've gotten pregnant with Mike, but she was definitely still a looker.

And men are often suckers for a pretty face

It was only later, after the extensive alcohol abuse, that her appearance went quickly downhill.

But so maybe it was understandable how a man like Strathmore had been blinded by her beauty.

Malloy, too. And he'd kept John and raised him as his own, which to me says more about him than anything I might read in an old edition of _Business Weekly_.

Malloy had kicked Shannon out roughly two years into the marriage and a year later, she married John Logan.

Mike was born eight months after that. Close enough to seem authentic and yet it was entirely possible that she was pregnant by someone else.

_Hell, it was possible even if he'd been born a year into the marriage_, I had to remind myself. Not every woman was faithful like my Mary.

So with the timeline in my head, I shifted my focus to the part of her life that occurred seven to ten months prior to Mike's birth.

Because most of the stuff in the file was just there to give me insight as to her character.

Tracking her movements is what Mike's paying me to do.

And it took me awhile.

I mean, it's been a long time.

But I managed to find an old neighbor woman who used to live across the hall from the Logans. And she remembered when Shannon and John Logan first moved into the apartment, so after a brief phone call, I paid her a visit.

"_Whatever happened to that boy?"_ she asked me in a shaky voice as I sat in her dusty, old living room with a chipped tea cup in my hand.

"_Their son?"_ I confirmed. At her nod, I smiled and added, "_He's all grown up. He's a detective with the NYPD."_

_"Are you sure we're talking about the same kid?"_

_"Yes, why?"_

_"Well, don't get me wrong. He was a sweet kid. Shy. But I was always afraid Shannon was going to kill him. And by the time he left home, he was so damaged I just imagined he'd end up in prison."_

_"You knew she was beating him?"_

_"Everybody knew it."_

_"Can I ask why you never called anyone?"_ I questioned, doing my best not to show my anger.

_"I did. A couple of times, cops would show up at their door, but she had a way about her and she always managed to talk her way out of it."_

Two watery cups of tea later, I left her apartment, and the only information I'd gleaned was that Mike was lucky to be alive.

She'd told me stories of how Shannon left him alone in the apartment for hours at a time. When he was still in diapers.

She heard the shouting, and the beatings, and the threats.

She saw man after man walk through the door.

And that was when John Logan was still around.

Afterwards it got even worse.

I managed to get one remote lead out of the whole conversation, and that was that she'd seen social services make a visit only a month or two after Shannon moved in. Which would've been while she was still pregnant, so that had me curious. It was possible that the old woman had the years wrong in her head, but it was worth a check.

Phone calls save time when it comes to quick questions, but I've learned over the years, that sometimes making the drive is worth it.

People are much more likely to blow off a faceless voice on the phone.

So I drove to the social services office and when I spotted a woman around my age working at a desk overloaded with paperwork, I put on my most charming smile.

"_Boy, it never gets easier, does it?"_ I posed easily as I approached her desk.

"_I'm sorry?"_

"_Civil servants. I spent my whole life working as one, and there are never enough hours in the day for the amount of work they expect us to do, are there?"_

"_No,"_ she agreed with a hesitant smile.

"_Oh, I'm sorry,"_ I said as I offered my hand. "_I'm Johnny Eames. Retired NYPD."_

"_Linda Marsden,"_ she replied as she shook my hand. _"So what is retired NYPD doing hanging out in social services?"_

"_Ah, well, I couldn't stay retired_," I said with a grin. "_I run an investigative firm now."_

A slight stretch maybe, but I was endearing myself to her, so…

"_An ambitious retired civil servant_," she said.

"_Or crazy, one of the two."_

"_I suppose you want me to look up something for you."_

"_Not much gets past you, does it, Linda?"_

"_Sit down and give me just a minute to finish this form, and then I'll see what I can do."_

See?

You catch more flies with honey.

And that's how I discovered that five months before Mike was born, Shannon had a discussion with a social worker about giving up her child for adoption.

"_It says here in the notes that the subject stated she was too far along for an abortion, and her new husband didn't want to raise another man's child,_" Linda told me after we made a trip to the records archives and she found the file.

"_I don't suppose she said who the real father was_," I asked.

"_No, but when she was informed that she'd need the father's signature to waive his parental rights, the response was that she didn't want to drive all the way back to Boston just to get a signature_."

"_And that was it?"_

"_It looks like a follow-up visit was made, but the notes state that Mrs. Logan changed her mind and decided to keep the child_."

I went back to the office, and a buddy of mine who helps me out from time to time, said he'd found some interesting financial information on Shannon.

I didn't tell him why we were looking for her, and he didn't ask. He was only tasked with trying to find old bank accounts or credit cards, and when it comes to tracking money, Jimmy's a genius.

"_I don't know if this helps you, Johnny, but it looks like she spent two months at an Econo Lodge in South Boston_, _and it happened right smack in the middle of the timeframe you gave me."_

I love it when new evidence backs up old evidence.

So now I had the social services notes and a money trail, both of which point to Boston.

And based on employment records, I know for a fact that John Logan was in New York during that time.

Of course, none of it was irrefutable evidence because she could've made trips to the city on the weekend, or he could've driven up there…and just because she mentioned to social services that her husband didn't want the baby and that the real father was in Boston doesn't mean that she was telling the truth.

She was obviously adept at lying, spouting off whatever tales would most benefit her.

But still…it was a promising lead, and I had to check it out.

After getting a confirmation text from Logan, I went home and packed my bags.

I got on the road early this morning, and I made it to Boston by ten o'clock.

I was armed with the old photo of Shannon, a current picture of Mike, thinking that maybe he resembles his father, and my PI license.

And knowing what I know about Shannon, I spent the first two hours doing a pub crawl.

And the thing I didn't consider, the thing that I _should've_ considered, is that Southies don't like strangers hanging around asking questions, especially in pubs where a lot of so-called business is conducted.

"What's with all the questions?" a guy asked me as I came out of the restroom in my seventh pub of the day.

I looked up to find a large man approaching me. He had a hard face and huge hands that were scarred and misshapen. And I noticed his hands because he was holding them out in front of him, one at a time, as he rolled up the sleeves on his button-down work shirt.

It's been a long time since I've taken an ass-whipping, and I was starting to wonder if maybe I had one coming today.

I'm not sure I can take it quite as good as I used to, but I'm no slouch either. He might be big, but I'm scrappy, and I'm not going to be intimidated by his clichéd actions.

"I'm an inquisitive guy," I responded as I squared off to stand in front of him.

"You're a guy who's not so smart," he corrected.

"I'm not here looking for trouble."

"Well that's too bad because I think you found it," he said as he stepped closer to me.

"Chasing off my customers, are you, Tommy?"

"No sir, Mr. Mullins."

"Good, because that's bad for business, you know."

The newcomer was dressed in a suit and he nudged Tommy out of the way and then he looked me up and down.

"My barkeep says you're asking about a woman."

"That's right."

"Are you a cop?"

"No," I answered, deciding to hold off on announcing that I'm an investigator. I wasn't sure which way this thing was going to go because despite the suit having called off his dog, I still wasn't in the clear.

"What business do you have with her then?"

"I'm checking up on something for a friend."

"Come with me," he said in a firm voice.

"Look, I don't care if you're making book in this bar, so why don't you just let me..."

"So you think I'm taking action, do you?" he interrupted.

"No, I don't mean..."

"Upstairs," he repeated sternly.

He turned and walked away from me, and I considered making a break for the door, but Tommy was blocking my path so I reluctantly followed the mysterious Mr. Mullins.

And it's not that I'm afraid for my life or anything.

I mean, hell, _I'm_ Irish.

Not only that, but I wasn't infringing on anyone's territory, and I wasn't looking to bust anyone's balls…I'm just asking about a woman who might have been here almost fifty years ago.

But…I do wish that I'd brought my gun.

And it's only because of my own stupidity that I didn't.

I'd let my Massachusetts permit expire.

"Check him," Mullins commanded once we were inside of an upstairs office. Then he glanced at me and said, "We don't like questions around this place, or men who might be asking them."

Two goons immediately went about the task of frisking me, and so maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that I didn't bring my weapon.

"He's a private investigator, boss," one guy said as he read over my ID. "From New York."

"What're you doing in Boston?" Mullins asked me as he held out his hand to take the photos that I'd had in my pocket.

He glanced down at them, pausing only briefly to look at the one of Shannon, but I noticed he studied Logan's picture a little longer.

Could it be that I'd stumbled across someone who actually knew his father?

And then it occurred to me that it was dumb of me to think Logan looks like his father, because he's almost identical to John so they must both take after their mother.

Besides, this guy was young…too young to have known him.

But as he stared at the picture, the mood in the room suddenly got darker.

"I thought you were looking for a woman," Mullins said sharply.

"I am," I said, trying to decide how much information to divulge. "The one in the picture."

"Or maybe that's what you want us to think. This guy here," he said, holding up Mike's photo. "What do you know about him?"

"He's…um…he's my client," I said, stuttering slightly due to the fact that I now had a gun pushed against my ribcage.

"Your client," Mullins repeated disbelievingly. "You know, people around Southie…they carry a fellow's picture in his pocket, it's because he's got a price on his head. You looking to take this guy out?"

"What? No! It's like I said. He's a client."

"Uh huh," he mumbled as he turned around and walked over to his desk. He picked up the phone and made a quick call.

"Yeah, it's me," he said. "I gotta guy here looking for Mike Logan."

"I'm not looking for him," I insisted, but I stopped my protest when one of the goons elbowed me in the gut. I doubled over in pain and struggled to catch my breath while Mullins finished out his conversation.

"What should I do with him? No, he claims to be working for him, but that doesn't make any sense now, does it?"

A minute later, when I was finally able to stand upright again, Mullins hung up the phone and turned around to look at me skeptically.

"Why would Logan hire you when he's an investigator?"

"He's not. He went back to work with the NYPD," I answered, wondering how in the hell this guy knows Mike.

"Did he now?" Mullins asked with a smirk. "Well…I'll just give him a quick ring and see what he has to say about that."

A quick ring?

Who was this guy, and since when does Mike know Irish mobsters?

"And if you're yanking my bloody chain, old man, I'll be sending you down to Tommy."

The goons next to me started laughing, and Mullins smiled broadly, adding, "He's not the full shilling, to be sure, but he does enjoy killing for Mr. O'Connor."

TBC...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: For those of you who might have forgotten, Ryan Mullins and Shane O'Connor are characters from my story "The Message Job".**


	20. Chapter 20

**Lupo POV**

* * *

><p>"So how's Lauren doing?"<p>

"You mean is she upset that the asshole's lawyer is digging into his bag of tricks?"

"Yeah," I said with a nod.

Bernard and I were driving to Mt. Sinai to check out the security footage from their emergency room entrance.

They'd treated one of our two unknown gunshots from Sunday night, and this was the place where the guy with the bullet hole in his side had come.

"She's holding it together," he said as he stared out the window. "But just barely."

I nodded, even though he wasn't looking at me, and we were quiet for a few blocks until he said in a barely audible tone, "I really want to kill the guy, Lupes."

"Flowers?"

As if there was someone else on my partner's hit list.

"You should've seen her last night. She had a nightmare and it was…intense and obviously terrifying and I had a hard time waking her up. It was like she was living it all over again."

"She talked to you about it?"

"Yeah. I guess that's a plus, right? She's not shutting me out."

"That's a big plus."

"We're going down to see him. Tomorrow night, I think. I guess it depends on how work goes, but…"

"So she's going to take his deal?"

"No, she's going to tell Connie to take the deal off the table. After the visit, the offer will be upped to fifteen years."

"You think he'll take it?"

"No. Do you think Connie can get the DNA admitted?"

"I've seen her do more with less," I told him. "And Cutter will help if she needs it."

"I want that son of a bitch to die in prison," he said firmly. "Even if I have to help him along."

I wanted to tell him to think rationally about the situation.

To remember that he's an officer of the law.

And then I thought about the fact that I killed Carl less than two weeks ago, and I thought maybe if I said something along those lines, it would make me sound like a hypocrite.

True, Carl had been firing a gun at Connie and me both. And he'd shot Mulder.

But still, the fact that I was in imminent danger at the time I pulled the trigger didn't make his death any less gratifying.

I'd wanted that son of a bitch dead, too, and he hadn't done to Connie the things that this Flowers guy did to Lauren.

So instead of trying to talk him out of doing something stupid, I said, "You know I've got your back, right, B.?"

He finally turned and looked at me and he smiled.

"You're gonna bail me out of jail, Lupes?"

"Well, at the very least, I know a good lawyer," I replied with a grin.

He nodded, chuckling for a minute and then he got serious again and he said, "I'm in love with her."

"I figured that."

"No, I mean…this is…she's…I can't explain it."

"I've been married for five days. You don't have to explain love to me."

"She's just got so much going on with this Flowers thing and then her parents…you should hear them. They're unbelievable."

"Unsupportive?"

"And judgmental, condescending…they can't understand why she enjoys being a cop or why she's not married with children."

"So they don't know?"

"She never told them, no. And she told her father about me yesterday, but he was less than thrilled about my profession."

"Public servants. We don't get any respect."

"Yeah, so anyway, I planned to wait. You know, and not tell her yet how I feel."

"Planned to?"

I glanced over at him and he smiled self-deprecatingly and shook his head.

"When we left McNally's last night, she was really upset, and she tried to push me away, and then she started this whole thing with how she doesn't understand why I'd want to hang around and so…"

"So you made your own moment," I finished. "That was some good advice you gave me, so I'm glad you followed it yourself."

He laughed and said, "Yeah, I forgot about that. I'm still not sure that was the _right_ moment though."

"But the important thing is did she leave you hanging?"

"No. She definitely didn't do that."

He smiled and turned to look out the side window again.

"My little Bernard…he's growing up," I teased as my cell phone started ringing. I checked the display and then told him, "It's Connie."

"You're lucky, too, because we were about to have a brawl," he joked.

"I can call her back," I offered.

"Answer the damn phone," he said good-naturedly.

I pushed the button and said, "Lupo."

"I got your warrant for the hospital records."

"Seriously? How'd you manage that?"

"It's Mike. He's like a man possessed today. I think the judge was actually afraid to say no."

"I'll take it. Is he doing okay? Do you think he slept last night?"

"He says he did. And he looks better today. Well, I don't mean literally…I mean, you know, that cut on his face and the bruise…it's…"

"I know what you mean. Make sure he comes out with us tonight, okay? If you need back up, Bernard and I will swing by and help you out. It should be a big crowd. Mary invited her team, too."

"So she's getting to know them better. That's good."

"Uh huh, and I think it'll be good for all of them to talk to Cutter in a more casual situation. I don't want anyone thinking he had any part in this."

"Is that in question? Because you know…"

"I know," I interrupted. "But they had to ask what he might know. I assured them that he's been completely honest with us, but I did it on the good faith that he _was_ honest. Because at first he wasn't."

"I know," she admitted. "He was still in shock and he was embarrassed."

"Honey, I'm on your side."

"You are, aren't you?"

"Always."

I pulled into the parking lot of the emergency room and shut off the engine.

"So do you think the records will have anything useful? I mean, you already got the nurse to give you the basics."

"I don't know. But if we're lucky, maybe the victim brought the bullet with him. And with that warrant, we'll be able to take custody of it."

"Good luck. I love you."

I hung up with her and got out of the car, meeting Bernard around front.

"So we got a warrant?"

"Uh huh. Connie said Cutter's on fire, so don't sweat that pre-trial motion. They'll get it tossed."

We went into the hospital and struck gold.

Potentially.

We still couldn't be sure that this guy was the guy we were looking for, but this was the nearest ER to Anna's apartment building, and the timing of the visit fit our timeline and since the guy wanted to remain anonymous, it was a good possibility.

And what we found was footage of a man arriving at the hospital in a blue Honda.

We could make out most of the plate number and there was also what appeared to be a hole in the driver's side back door.

If we could find that car, we just might find our crime scene.

And if the car's our crime scene, then we can use the grainy shot of the man getting out of the car when we canvass Kew Gardens, and we can get the nurse and doctor who worked on him to help us with a sketch.

And that wasn't the only thing.

We also recovered the bullet that the doctor plucked out of the man's fleshy waist.

"It could just be a banger," Bernard warned as we returned to our car.

"It could be," I agreed. "Or it could be one of Anna's killers."

"Let's get out an APB on the vehicle and then we can run the bullet by the lab."

Bernard got on the phone and issued the APB on the Honda while I drove us as quickly as possible towards the lab.

I was halfway there when a call came in over the radio.

"Be advised that a vehicle matching your description was ticketed last night in Willow Park."

"Can you find out if it's still there?" Bernard responded as I slowed and debated turning around.

"There's a unit in the vicinity. Give me a few minutes to send them on a drive-by."

"Quietly," Bernard instructed. "And if it's there, tell the officers to keep on going."

"What do you think?" I asked him while we waited to hear back.

"It's in the right general vicinity."

"But it's a good hump away from the ER. If you were going to dump a car after leaving the hospital, would you drive it across the bridge first?"

"Hell no. I'd take it to Riverside."

"Right."

"Or maybe even leave it in the hospital parking lot. It'd take a lot longer for someone to notice a car parked in a place like that than it would at a baseball field where there's a posted closing time."

"Unless you've got a body in the backseat that you have to dispose of."

"Exactly," he said.

"It's still there," the dispatcher said. "Blue Honda, license plate QRT-4744."

"Have the unit keep an eye from a distance," Bernard answered. "We're on our way."

I threw the cherry on top of the car and executed an illegal U-turn and then slammed my foot down on the accelerator.

It was possible that we were still wrong, but at the very least, by picking up this car we'd be finding evidence of _some_ crime because it had been driven by a guy with a bullet in his side who'd skipped out on his hospital bill.

Thirty minutes later, I turned off the lights and siren and made the final turn before arriving at Willow Park.

We got word to the unit that was watching the vehicle and then we pulled into the lot, crossways behind the Honda.

And call me crazy, but as I got out of the car, I pulled my weapon.

So did Bernard.

"I see blood in the backseat," he said as he circled around to the driver's side of the car. "And that's definitely a bullet hole."

"There's more blood over here," I told him. "And three more holes."

"Three?"

"Uh huh," I said as I cautiously approached the vehicle.

"Remind me to find out which officer wrote this ticket," Bernard mumbled. "Because there's no excuse for not seeing this blood."

"It's unlocked," I commented.

I grabbed a latex glove from my pocket and put it on the handle so that I could open the door.

Bernard did the same and he began a visual search of the driver's side area while I did the same on the passenger side.

"Bullet hole in the seat," he commented. "More blood..."

"Check it out, B.," I said as I pointed at the floor to an object partially obscured by the mat. "Brass."

"Over there?"

"Uh huh. It looks like a nine."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"It's too much blood for one victim," I said as he caught my eye. "There were three of them. One in the back and _two_ in the front."

"From the security footage, it only looked like _one_ person was still in the car after the injured guy got out of the car."

We looked at each other for a minute and then we both eased out of the vehicle. Bernard used the glove again to pull the release mechanism for the trunk and then the two of us met at the rear of the vehicle.

I could smell what was inside before I could see it, but just to be on the safe side, I took aim at the trunk while Bernard flipped open the lid.

"I'm guessing this wasn't how the night was supposed to go," Bernard remarked as we took in the sight of the dead man in the trunk.

"Three to the gut," I said after I tucked my weapon into its holster and put on a pair of gloves. "And residue on his shirt."

"I'm thinking Anna did an even better job of trying to fend off her attackers than we gave her credit for."

"She steals the gun, and shoots three rounds into the guy in the backseat, then gets off another round at the driver before the passenger has a chance to shoot her in the head."

"Uh huh," Bernard agreed. "Too bad all three shots went through this guy. I'd love to be able to match up ballistics on this stiff to the guy from Mt. Sinai."

"Hey, B. I think it's our lucky day after all," I said as I prodded at the body. "A fourth entry wound."

"And only three holes in the car door," he said with a grin. "We need to call this thing in. We need an ME and CSU and the impound…"

"Yep, because if we can confirm that it's Anna's blood in that backseat, then we just found one of the members of the gang we're looking for."

After I said the words, I stood up and looked at Bernard and found him staring at me with the same confusion that I felt.

"It's too easy, isn't it?" I asked. "Because why the hell would they just leave this guy like this, knowing that we'd find him and tie him to the murder?"

"Lupes, you're making my head hurt."

"That makes two of us."

TBC...


	21. Chapter 21

**Alex POV  
><strong>

* * *

><p>Bobby and I had an ulterior motive for wanting to go by the lab.<p>

Not that we don't understand and appreciate the importance of this case, and we certainly aren't taking it lightly, but picking up the lab report was going to provide us with a good opportunity to say hello to Liz.

Well, hello and whatever else might need to be said, because the fact that Ross was seeking out detectives had me worried.

Especially since, after he realized he couldn't ask me and Bobby, and Mike and Carolyn were clearly still out on their case, he ignored the rest of the crew in Major Case, preferring instead to hit up Sean and Lauren.

Which suggested that it was something of a very personal nature.

"Let's see how fast we can get in and out of the lab and then we can go corner Liz," I commented as we entered the building. "It'll probably be another hour or so before Mary gets back anyway."

"I think Christina's holding out on them," Bobby said. "She has to know something. I mean, she knows enough about the Albanians to warrant being in Witsec and yet she can't tell us who's behind this?"

"Knowing that it's the organization in general and knowing which specific individuals are involved are two different things," I reminded him.

"Yeah," he agreed as he pushed open the door to the lab. He caught my eye as I walked past him and he said, "But I still think she knows."

"Mary will let us talk to her."

"She didn't want us to know where she was taking her," he pointed out.

"She's trying to stick to protocol, or at least as much as she can."

"Detectives," Scott called out. "Sorry to make you wait. And really, there wasn't much worth waiting for."

"You didn't find anything?"

"Oh, we found all kinds of things," the CSU tech said as he handed over a thick report. "But knowing you two, I'm not sure it's anything you haven't already figured out."

"Don't keep us in suspense," I said, because I've been around Scott enough to know when he's got something. And despite his disclaimer, I was pretty sure he had something of interest.

"Well, we found trace amounts of your victim's blood in the stairwell, so that's how he got her out."

"You're right. We already figured that out," I said.

He smirked at me and said, "Okay, but did you know that she grabbed the doorframe of the fire exit?"

"So she came to as he was taking her outside," Bobby said. "And yet she didn't scream."

"Or at least, no one's admitting to having heard her," I said. I took a moment to try to imagine the scenario. "But you know, maybe she was more concerned with fighting back. I mean, I don't know if I would've screamed either. Most likely, I would've focused on trying to get free."

I wasn't thinking about Jo Gage as I made the statement, but once the words were out of my mouth, Bobby caught my eye and I could tell that's what he was thinking about.

_Again_.

And I guess I didn't need to say _most likely_, because the fact is that I _didn't_ scream, not even when I regained consciousness and found myself blindfolded and bound to a hook in the ceiling.

I think it's the training we go through.

My first instinct was to get loose, and I'd bet that was Anna's too.

"Okay, so, the blood on the desk is your victim's, as was the hair," Scott continued uneasily, obviously picking up on the undertones in the room. "Prints pulled from the doorknob belong to the victim and EADA Cutter."

"That's it? No unknowns?" Bobby asked, giving me a subtle nod and then shifting his focus back to the report.

I have to give him points for not dwelling on my long-past abduction.

"Not on the door," Scott confirmed.

"So the killer wore gloves," I said reasonably. "It's not like we expected to catch him because he's got a sheet."

"Hang on," Bobby said. "Not on the door? Does that mean that you found unknown prints somewhere else?"

"It means I found _prints_ somewhere else, but they're not unknown," Scott said with a smile. "I found a few partials in the kitchen."

"I'm sure we've got all kinds of partials in our kitchen," I commented.

"_And_ in the bedroom," the tech added. "On the nightstand and on the headboard."

"Not Cutter's?" Bobby questioned, flashing me a curious look.

"No. Some former Coast Guard guy named Derek Gilmore."

I sighed heavily, wondering what in the hell poor Anna had been thinking.

Because prints on the headboard were tough to write off as something innocent.

And don't get me wrong – I'm not judging her for her personal life. I honestly don't care if she slept with every guy in Manhattan.

But she shouldn't have been sleeping with the guy who was the undisclosed boyfriend of a witness.

I mean, some rules can be broken, but that wasn't one of them.

We finished up with Scott and then went down the hall toward Liz's autopsy suite.

"What do you think about all of this?" Bobby asked me quietly.

"I think she was a confused woman. I mean, she was calling Christina, she was sleeping with Derek, and she was trying to date Mike Cutter…what was her objective there? I'm wondering why she tried to bring Cutter into it at all. And you saw that nightstand…there wasn't any dust on it."

"Which means that she'd cleaned fairly recently."

"Uh huh. And Gilmore's prints were still on it, so she had him over there recently. After she started going out with Cutter."

"Maybe she knew she was wrong," Bobby posed. "Maybe she was hoping that she'd fall in love with Cutter and it would help her break away from the bad situation she'd gotten herself into."

"Well, he _did_ say she was almost like two different people, wanting him one minute and then pushing him away the next."

"She felt conflicted," he stated thoughtfully. "How did Cutter meet her? Do we know?"

"No," I answered. "Do you think it matters?"

"I'm not sure, but let's find out anyway."

I started to go through the door to the autopsy suite, but Bobby's hand on my arm halted my progress.

"Are you okay?"

"Me? Absolutely."

"I mean, thinking about Anna. It doesn't…"

"Bobby, the thing with Jo happened a long time ago. Are we going to relive it every time we run across a similar situation?"

"No. I just wasn't sure if…"

"Be sure," I interrupted. "That happened in another life."

"Good," he said, giving my hand a squeeze. "Now let's go find out what's happening in _Liz's_ life."

I paused another moment, going up on my toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, appreciative of his sensitivity to my feelings, and then I led the way in to find Liz.

"Oh, you're kidding me," she said when she saw us. She whipped off her gloves and tossed them onto the table. "He doesn't waste any time, does he? I guess that shouldn't surprise me, although I honestly didn't expect it to be you two. Aren't you busy enough with Mary's case? You really want to put in OT dealing with my thirty-year-old crime?"

"Um…what?" I asked.

"Danny didn't tell you what this is about?" she asked as her gaze bounced back and forth between me and Bobby.

"He didn't tell us anything at all," I said.

"Then why are you here? I'm not working on anything for you."

"It's a social visit," Bobby explained.

"But now I think we need to hear about this thirty-year-old crime," I added.

"Oh, it's nothing," she said dismissively.

"Obviously it's not," I argued. "What's going on?"

"You know, I just told the story to Danny, and if you're not the detectives he asked to look into it, then I'm going to have to tell it again to someone else, so…"

"Give us the abridged version," Bobby said, not wanting to let her off the hook.

Because she looked like maybe she didn't sleep last night and her movements lacked her usual fluid grace.

"Yeah," I encouraged. "Because you know Bobby. He might have an answer for you before you even finish explaining the problem."

He smirked at me as Liz rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Not this time," she said. "There's definitely some digging that needs to be done."

"For the purpose of what? What did you do?"

"And why does it matter since it happened thirty years ago?" Bobby added. "What's the need for detectives?"

"Exactly," I agreed. "Thirty years ago, I was…let's see…partaking in underage drinking, driving without a license, trespassing…"

"Alex," Liz said, shaking her head.

"Wait, I'm not done. Um…criminal mischief…public indecency…"

"Really? Public indecency?" Bobby asked me with interest, and Liz finally started laughing.

"Why doesn't it surprise me that you were a hellion as a teenager?" she questioned.

"As a teenager?" Bobby repeated dubiously. "You don't need to quantify that. She still is one."

"I haven't broken a law in…hours, at least," I asserted, enjoying the fact that Liz was still smiling. Because she'd certainly looked a lot more tense a few minutes ago when we walked into the room.

At least now she was starting to relax a little.

"And which one was that? Public indecency?" she teased.

"Well, it's a nice day," I answered with a grin. "And you know how I like to do it outside."

"Okay," she said, waving her hands as she chuckled again. "This conversation has devolved rather quickly, hasn't it?"

"You needed a laugh," I told her.

"Yes, I did. Thank you."

"And she's kidding about this morning," Bobby said.

Liz looked at me skeptically and I nodded.

"I'm kidding," I agreed. "We were _in_side, so no laws were broken."

"Uh huh," she replied. "That's what I thought."

"So…your need for detectives?"

"I got two phone calls yesterday," she admitted. "One was a man, and one was a woman, and both of them asked for me, using my maiden name."

"For the purpose of what?"

"I don't know. I didn't admit that it was me. But one call came here, and one came to the house, so whoever it is has more information than just my name. Danny's going to pull the phone records and find out who called the house, and knowing him, he's getting permission from the chief ME to pull our records here, too."

"What are you thinking?" Bobby asked her. "What made you deny that it's you?"

She sighed heavily and moved over to sit down on an empty gurney.

"At first, I thought it was an old boyfriend. I mean, it was a woman, but I thought he was behind it. I thought he…wanted something from me. But I went to see him this morning, and I'm sure it's not him."

"What did you think he wants?"

"I thought this was the abridged version," she said smartly.

"It's more complex than I expected," Bobby admitted.

"Yes," she said, nodding slowly "Yes, it is."

She trailed off when my phone started buzzing. I glanced at it and saw that it was a text from Lupo.

_**We found the car. We have a photo of one suspect. We have the dead body of another suspect, and we believe there's a third still out there.**_

"Three," Bobby said quietly after I read the text aloud. "I didn't consider that. Okay, um…I'd like to see that car. Find out where they are and ask them to wait for us."

"Hey, Doc!" an assistant said as he entered the room. "Can you make a run? There's a DOA in a trunk out in Willow Park."

"Sure. Get the van ready, and I'll be right there," she responded.

"Dare I guess Willow Park?" I asked rhetorically as I typed in the text.

_**Where are you? We want to come check it out. **_

"Do you think Anna killed him?" Bobby asked. "And why would they leave one of their own in the trunk?"

_**Willow Park. Come on – we'll wait. We've got the three B's.**_

"The three B's?" Liz asked as we all headed for the exit.

Bobby held the door open for us and said, "Bullets and bodies and blood."

"Oh my."

TBC...


	22. Chapter 22

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>At the sound of gunfire, we rushed towards the house.<p>

As we reached the front porch, a man came barreling through the door, with his hands over his head as though he was trying to protect himself from the flying bullets.

"NYPD! Hold your fire!" I yelled, focusing on the person inside who was still shooting while Carolyn dove at the fleeing man, taking him down to the ground and out of harm's way.

"You fuckin' little piece of shit!" a guy shouted, appearing in the doorway with the gun still in his hand.

"Put down your gun!" I called out.

Although, he wasn't firing it anymore. Now he was merely waving it around while he spoke as much with his hands as with his mouth.

"You called the fuckin' cops on me? Che peccato, Louie. You just got burned."

"Whoa, hey, nobody's clipping nobody, okay?" I said soothingly. "But I need you to put down the gun."

The man finally shifted his eyes to me, and then he tossed down the gun and spit in the general direction of the other man, who was still on the ground. Carolyn was kneeling next to him, putting cuffs on him so that he'd be restrained until we could sort out the situation.

"Hey, you spit on my partner, and you'll be the one getting burned," I told the man as I approached him, grabbing him by the arm and spinning him around before shoving him into the door.

"I wasn't aiming for the broad," he said with a shrug.

I jerked his arms back roughly and slapped on the cuffs before turning him back around.

The guy called Louie was now sitting cross-legged in the yard, so I sat my guy down on the front steps and then moved aside so that I could look at both men. Carolyn eased over next to me, settling her hand on the butt of her weapon.

"Is anyone else in the house?" she asked the men.

"Non capisco," Louie said.

Carolyn rolled her eyes at him and then repeated her question, this time in Italian, and as expected, he answered in English.

"It was just me and Berto," he stated.

"Sharing girl-talk over coffee?" I asked as Carolyn went up the steps and cautiously approached the house. We needed to do a once-over, just to be on the safe side, so she pulled her gun again and entered the home.

"We was handling a little business," Berto corrected.

"What'd you do, Louie? Short him on his take? Because…he was yelling and shooting at you before he even knew we were out here."

"I gave him his taste of the swag," Louie insisted.

I glanced at Berto and saw that he wasn't nearly as upset as he should be over the fact that his buddy had just admitted to having stolen goods.

Which told me that there was a lot more going on here.

"Oh yeah? Then what's his beef?" I questioned.

"It was nothing," Berto insisted. "We had a bit of a mathematical disagreement."

"Uh huh," I mumbled skeptically, now tuned into the house since Carolyn hadn't come back yet.

I noticed that both men were surreptitiously looking in that direction, too.

"So what's your game? You two don't strike me as the gun-running type, so…electronics? Drugs? A little shylocking on the side?"

"We don't touch no fuckin' drugs, okay, man?"

"Okay," I said amicably. "Good, because you know they fry your brain, right? And I don't think you can afford to lose much."

"Hey, you insultin' me?"

"Nope," I replied with a grin as Carolyn finally emerged from the house.

"Doing a little bit of spring cleaning, boys?" she asked as she came down the steps.

Both men immediately focused on the ground.

I raised an eyebrow at her, stepping away from our suspects as she moved closer to me and said quietly, "The place smells of decomp and they attempted to cover it by bleaching everything in sight."

"Our six bodies?" I asked hopefully.

"Maybe they were here before they got planted next door."

"But why?"

"We won't know until we know who they are, I guess. Maybe people who shorted on a loan? I don't know. But if these guys _didn't_ kill our vics next door, then we've got more bodies to find, because there were definitely dead people in that house."

"You know, I don't remember seeing the name Berto on anything in Eames and Hayes' file, and they talked to all of the neighbors. I don't think this place is their house."

"Great, so I just did an illegal search?"

"They were shooting at us," I reminded her. "Well, sort of. We had every right to go through and confirm there was no one else in the house."

"True. But we'll need to get permission to be more thorough. So did you find out their specialty?"

"No, but they don't touch no fucking drugs," I told her wryly.

"Good to know they have standards. Okay, so…I guess we want to take them in?"

"I guess. I wasn't expecting to have them practically jump into our arms like that. Let's call a black and white to pick them up and then we can run the address and see who owns this place.

"And then we'll go through it."

"Uh huh," I said as I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket.

"What do we want to charge Louie with?"

"Um..." I began as I looked at the display. It was a Boston area code. "I think this might be Johnny."

"Go ahead," she said. "I've got…"

As she said the words, a car came screeching to a halt in front of the house.

"What the fuck is going on here? Berto? Louie?"

"Sir, I need you to stay back," Carolyn said as I stood indecisively with my phone in my hand. Because I was slightly thrown by the fact that it wasn't Johnny's cell number that was calling me, and I also didn't like the attitude being displayed by our newcomer.

"Stay back? I think _you_ need to stay back, bitch. This is my fucking house and I didn't give you the right to be here," he said as he stomped towards her.

"Sir…"

The guy reached into his pocket and my indecision was gone as I let my cell phone drop to the ground so that I could pull out my gun.

Carolyn pulled hers, too, and we simultaneously shouted, "Stop right there!"

The man finally skidded to a stop and looked at us with loathing and irritation.

"I'm getting my _wallet_," he said pointedly. "To show you my ID. Jeez, you guys got itchy trigger fingers or what?"

"Slowly," I said as I stepped closer to him and reached my hand out for his wallet.

"I know how it's done," he retorted. "What the fuck's this about anyway? Just cos you got business with the psycho next door doesn't mean you can harass me and my acquaintances."

"A visit qualifies as harassment?" Carolyn asked him while I checked out the ID.

"This is the second visit. Two other cops was out here last week. Although you know, the one was a fine fucking specimen, you know what I'm saying?" he said, and I glanced up at him as he took a step closer to Carolyn and leered at her while slowly looking her over. "Maybe you and her can come back and harass me a little more."

"Or maybe I'll do it myself," I said. I moved to stand between him and Carolyn and then I slapped his wallet against his chest.

He glared at me without making any movement to take his wallet, so I let go of it and it fell to the ground. He kept his gaze on mine and tilted his head a little in a challenging kind of way.

"You come back around and maybe you don't bring your badge next time, you catch my meaning?"

"Did you just threaten me?"

"Why, no, officer. I would never do that. But unless you have a warrant, I'm going to have to ask you nicely…to get the fuck off my property."

This wasn't working out like I'd hoped.

We really didn't have anything on Louie. His casual mention of swag wasn't enough, not when we couldn't search the house to find evidence to back it up.

We had nothing on the new guy, Tony Puccio, whose name I _did_ remember from the case file. Although there wasn't any mention of the fact that he was a capo, but maybe he hid it a little better the first time around.

And since we'd searched his home without his permission, on the premise of ensuring our safety, our suspicions of illegal activity as a result of that search wouldn't justify a warrant.

So the best we could do was haul Berto in for the unlawful discharging of a weapon.

He'd be out in an hour.

Carolyn's phone started ringing as I back-stepped away from Tony.

"It's the same number," she told me as I retrieved my phone and then let Louie go.

The same number?

That meant it had to be Johnny, right? Because who else in Boston would have _both_ of our cell numbers?

And if he wasn't calling from his cell...that wasn't a good sign.

"Get it," I said.

While she answered, I kept an eye on Tony as I pulled Berto to his feet.

I wasn't crazy about this entire scenario considering that Tony had joined Louie and the two of them were circling around, eyeballing me intensely.

"Mike, I'll take him. You need to take this call," Carolyn said, suddenly behind me.

"Is it Johnny?"

"No. It's Shane O'Connor."

"What?" I asked in surprise at the same time that Tony and Louie started mumbling.

"Yeah," she said, holding out her phone.

"As in the Irish mob boss in Boston?" Tony asked me.

"You know any other Shane O'Connor?" I retorted smartly as I took the phone from Carolyn's hand. Then I pointed at Tony and said, "You two stay right there until we're gone."

"Whoa, yeah, sure thing. Whatever you say."

Their instant compliance made me realize something.

They're scared of O'Connor.

Well, that was fine.

That made three of us, because even though the man had never been anything but respectful to me, I have no doubt that he could take me out as easily as a normal man puts on his shoes.

"Logan," I answered.

"Mr. Logan, I'm hoping you're remembering me, are you?"

"You're not an easy man to forget."

"Nor you, to be sure."

"I didn't realize I'd made such an impression on you."

He laughed heartily and I glanced around to see that, even though I'd stepped far enough away so that I could speak in private, everyone in the yard was still staring at me.

I felt a little like I was taking a call from the President or somebody cool like Clint Eastwood or Sean Connery.

"Don't underestimate yourself, my boy. Now, I've got a bit of disturbing news for you."

I don't like the sound of that. I mean, sure, he was laughing, but getting disturbing news from a mobster who runs the city where I'd sent Alex's dad…

"I'm listening," I said.

"I'm thinking you know a fellow by the name of Johnny Eames, is that right?"

"Yes. Is he okay?"

"Aye, so he's the same Eames as the woman who was up here with you last fall?"

"Yes. Alex. It's her father."

He exhaled heavily and I heard him say to another man, "He's the same."

And then he came back to the phone and said, "He was asking around about you in one of my pubs, you know. Ryan Mullins picked him up and we thought maybe he was looking to take you out."

"You thought he was an assassin?" I asked, trying hard not to laugh because I didn't want to be disrespectful, but the thought of Johnny as a hired gun was pretty funny.

"He's Irish, isn't he? You think he doesn't have the stones for the job?" he asked in amusement.

"Oh no. I'm sure he does," I admitted, deciding that Alex had probably gotten her fortitude from him. "Wait, so you held onto him in order to protect me?"

"I believe I'm owing you a bit of gratitude, don't you think?"

"Um…no, I think we're square. Or if anything, I still owe you. You helped us out of a pretty big jam."

"And you helped me out of one as well," he said firmly.

He was quiet for a minute and I wasn't sure where the conversation was going, but then he said, "It was good talking to you, my boy. You come to Boston and we'll have us a pint."

"And Johnny's okay, right?"

"I've just had him sent him on his way. Whatever he's looking for…"

"It's personal."

"Of course. He'll be safe, no worries."

"Thank you."

"The pint, Logan. Soon, okay?"

"I'll see what I can do."

I hung up and stared at the phone for a minute before handing it back to Carolyn and then moving to take hold of Berto.

"Come on," I told him, shoving him towards the street. I looked over my shoulder at Tony and Louie who were still standing quietly in the yard. "Don't get too comfortable in that house, Tony. We'll be back."

And to my surprise, he nodded and quickly went inside without another word.

No smart ass comment.

No random threat.

"They think you're a made man," Carolyn said quietly to me after I shoved Berto in the back of our car.

"I don't mind letting them think that. Maybe they'll be more cooperative."

"So what did he say?"

"Johnny was with him. He had my picture, and so they thought there was a price on my head."

"They were protecting you?"

"Uh huh."

"Why?"

"I have no idea. But he invited me up for a beer."

"Mike, you don't think…"

"He's not old enough. Believe me, sweetheart. When he called me his boy, that was the first thing I thought of."

"Then what is it?"

"I have no idea. But I think I've suddenly got a taste for Guinness."

TBC...


	23. Chapter 23

**Liz POV**

* * *

><p>"You want me to run this through the system?"<p>

I barely heard the question over top of the movie playing in my head.

"_It'll be a piece of cake."_

"_It's not a good idea, Jeff."_

"_Come on, honey. Don't you trust me?"_

"_I do, but…"_

"_I just need to keep it here for a couple of days, and then I'll get it off your hands, okay? Nobody has to know."_

"_You mean nobody except Ricky."_

"_Who's he going to tell?" _

At that point, Jeff had kissed me in that way of his that left me defenseless. I always did whatever he asked because I couldn't say no to him.

"_Besides," _he added._ "He's got a crush on you. He'd never do anything that might get you into trouble."_

"_He's got a crush on me?"_

"_Uh huh. Why? Are you interested?"_

"_When my alternative is you? Not on your life."_

"Doctor Rodgers?"

"I'm sorry. What was your question?"

"You want me to run this guy's prints through the system?" my assistant asked with a confused and concerned expression on his face.

"Yes. Let me know what you get."

"Of course," he replied, still regarding me curiously as he passed by me to take care of the prints.

I let out an unsteady breath and got back to work.

Eames and Hayes were on their way down here to talk to me.

They're the ones Danny roped into handling my _issue_.

"_Do you really think this is necessary_?" I asked him when he called to let me know they'd be contacting me. I was in the van on the way out to Willow Park.

"_Yes, and so do you,_" he said firmly.

"_But I'm working."_

"_They'll work around your schedule."_

"_What if I'm jumping the gun? What if this doesn't have anything to do with it?"_

"_What else could it be?"_

What else indeed.

There was one other possibility, but that was so remote…so out of the realm that I wasn't going to waste time thinking about it.

Or at least, not any _more_ time.

And at the moment, I've got a job to do.

The DOA I gathered from the trunk of a car was currently laid out on my table. My assistant had just taken his prints, since there was no ID on him, and I'd done the preliminary external exam, but it was time to get down to the nitty-gritty.

I picked up my eleven blade and made the Y-incision and I had to force myself to stay focused.

It mostly worked.

I was halfway through the autopsy when my assistant stuck his head in the door.

"We got a hit on the prints," he told me. "Your DB is Robert Smith."

"He's got a record?"

"Nothing major, but yeah I found him in AFIS. You want me to call the detectives?"

Normally, I would've let him do it since I was gloved up and elbow deep in Bob Smith's innards, but at that moment, Hayes and Eames walked into the room, so I said, "No, I'll do it."

"How's it going, Liz?" Hayes asked easily.

"Busy. You're going to have to give me a few minutes."

"We've got time," Eames said.

I pulled off my gloves and stepped away from the table to get my cell phone.

I pondered how mad Danny would be if I sent these two away.

Probably pretty mad, since he must have sweet-talked Van Buren in order to keep them for personal use.

_Or maybe he made something up_, I thought as I dialed Alex's number.

Was he lying for me now?

"Goren," Alex answered.

"It's me," I told her. "I've got a name for you."

"Let me guess. Robert Smith."

I couldn't help but laugh as I asked, "Do I want to know how you do that?"

"The car's registered to him," she explained. "Bobby just came up with the brilliant deduction that the only way they'd leave the body in the car is if they knew we'd get his name anyway, from the registration."

"Interesting theory," I agreed. "But why'd they leave the car? They could've dumped it in a chop shop or something, right?"

Alex paused for a moment, and I could tell that she was thrown by the idea that I wanted to discuss motive with her because normally I stick to what I know, which is dead bodies.

"Maybe. But I think they made a mistake by going to the hospital. My guess is that they realized they could be on security footage, so they wanted to unload it as quickly as possible."

"Or they don't care that you know because knowing Smith won't lead you to them," I suggested. "Maybe he was a last minute wheelman."

"Wheelman?"

"Yeah, you know, it's a guy who's adept at driving the getaway car."

"I know what a wheelman is, Liz. I'm just…wait, Eames and Hayes are there, aren't they?"

"Why do you ask?" I asked innocently.

"Go talk to them. It'll be fine, I promise."

"You can't possibly know that."

"Keep your perspective, Liz," she said reasonably. "It was thirty years ago, and now you've got a dozen or so people, at least, who have your back."

She was right, of course, so I said my goodbyes and hung up my cell and then turned around to face the music.

"Okay, so do you mind doing it here, or should we go into my office?" I asked.

"Here is fine," Hayes said. "It looks like you're in the middle of something, so feel free to finish it while we talk."

I held her gaze for a moment and then reached for a fresh pair of gloves.

I'm not sure why this is bothering me so much.

The idea of telling them, I mean.

Or telling anyone, really, but especially Hayes.

Maybe because she seems so much younger that I feel like…I don't know.

Not her mother.

I'm not that old.

But definitely a big sister. And with that in mind, I don't want to disappoint her, or taint her image of the person she believes me to be.

"What will make this easier for you?" she asked me.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…are we Sean and Lauren, down here helping out a friend? Or are we detectives working on a cold case, trying to find how it might relate to your recent harassing phone calls?"

"And really," Eames added, before I could respond. "If you want to go the personal route, I don't mind stepping outside while you talk to Lauren. She can take notes, and then you won't have to talk about it in front of me."

"Why are you two being so accommodating?" I asked suspiciously. "Did Danny threaten you?"

"We're your friends," Hayes said, looking at me oddly. "And we can appreciate the sensitive nature of what you need to discuss, so…whatever makes it easiest for you."

I stared at her for a minute, thinking about her as she'd been at my house, on the last girls' night.

Shy and slightly uncomfortable since she didn't know any of us all that well, and we'd all regaled her with stories about our sex lives until she finally opened up enough to tell us that she'd kissed Bernard.

It's been too long since we had one of those nights.

More than a month.

But still…she's right. She's a friend, and even though I don't know Eames as well, he's her partner, and Alex's brother.

And they were both here to help me, not judge me.

"How much did Danny tell you?" I asked.

"He told us to pull the LUDs on the home phone, and we spoke with the chief ME about getting the ones for the line here. We should have them in another hour or so, but in the meantime, the call made to your house last night came from a payphone in Washington Heights."

"That doesn't surprise me," I said quietly.

"Why not?" Eames asked.

"Because that's where I grew up," I said. "I'm sure Danny mentioned that."

"Let's pretend he didn't say anything at all and start from the beginning," Lauren suggested.

So I did.

"When I was a senior in high school, I was dating a guy who sold drugs," I said bluntly. "He was a go-between, moving light weight for a Hispanic gang that mostly ran the neighborhood."

"Okay," Eames said, obviously working hard to contain his surprise.

"He didn't _do_ drugs. He just sold them," I clarified. As though my hair-splitting really made much difference. Of course at the time, I thought it made all the difference in the world, but now…I don't know. "It's just the way it was where I grew up."

"Keep going," Lauren encouraged.

"Okay, so he got this idea that he could fake a bust. You know, he was going to say he got pinched and that the cops took the drugs, but then he was actually going to take them to another neighborhood and sell them."

"So that he could keep the money."

"Right. He also thought it would make him look good to the guys in the neighborhood. You know, because he didn't rat them out."

"Did it work?"

"Yes," I said with a nod. "And he moved up to more substantial weight. He and his friend Ricky…they'd do it together. I knew about it, but that was it. I mean, I never went with them or anything."

"Until…"

"Not until. I never went. But one night, Jeff came by my place and wanted to hide the stash. He'd faked another bust but he hadn't had a chance to resell it yet, and it didn't go quite as smoothly so he was a little paranoid, and…"

I trailed off as I relived it in my mind.

It was two days after I graduated high school.

"_DEA, get down on the ground!"_

That's what I heard as I stood in the kitchen, stirring tomato soup that was going to be my dinner.

I'd stared in shocked panic as a SWAT team in full garb, complete with flak jackets and M-16s, swarmed into my tiny apartment.

"_Get down!_" the command was repeated, since I was still frozen to the spot. The DEA agent put a hand on my shoulder, shoving me roughly to the floor.

So I laid there, with my face against the linoleum, practically shaking from both anger and fear, for nearly two hours while my apartment was searched for drugs.

Because apparently Jeff's internal alarm was sounding due to his attempts to make a sale to an undercover narc rather than because his gang was onto him.

"You were arrested for possession with intent to distribute?" Eames asked me.

"Danny really didn't tell you much, did he?"

"I think he wanted us to hear it fresh from you."

"Okay. No, I wasn't. But only because Jeff and Ricky took responsibility."

Although, I'd _thought_ I was going to be arrested.

I thought I was in some seriously deep shit, because the DEA agents handcuffed me and hauled me back to their office where I was read my rights and informed that fifteen pounds of coke had been found in my duct work.

_Fifteen pounds_.

That was the stuff Jeff wanted to hide in my place.

The stuff I'd _let_ him hide there.

"Ultimately," I said, anxious to wrap up the conversation. "Jeff and Ricky were brought in, and both of them insisted that I didn't know anything about the drugs."

"I'm guessing they went to prison?"

"Oh yeah. In fact, Sing Sing is still Jeff's current address."

"We'll need their full names."

"Jeff Anderson and Richard Alvarez."

"Okay, wait," Lauren said. "So if you weren't charged, and you didn't roll on the others…I mean, they willingly admitted that you weren't involved, so…what's the crime here? And what do you think is going on now?"

"There was a question about some money."

"Drug money?"

"According to the DEA, they had Jeff and Ricky under surveillance, and _they_ say that a guy down in Hell's Kitchen made a hundred thousand dollar down payment on the fifteen pounds."

"They say? What did Jeff say?"

"He says he never took any money. Ricky says the same."

"Okay…"

"The DEA played hardball because they wanted the proof that the other guy, a heavy-hitter in that territory, was trying to make a buy. They even came back to me and put on the squeeze, thinking that maybe I knew where it was."

"So what happened?"

"Um…nothing. The agents visited me once a week that summer, I think just to make sure I didn't suddenly buy a new car or something, and then they finally gave up on it."

By this time, I'd finished examining Bob Smith, and I moved away from the table so that I could prep for getting him stitched back up.

When I turned back around, I found Lauren looking at me curiously.

"What?"

"You just…you led this whole other life," she said.

"Shocked?"

"Impressed."

"By me?"

"Look how easily you could've slipped into that kind of life. I mean, you were a kid fresh out of high school, and yet you went on to college, to medical school…"

"Don't give me any medals just yet," I said.

She laughed and looked down at her notes and then said, "Oh, so did they ever find the money? Do you think maybe that's why someone's interested? That maybe they think you know something about it?"

"That was my thought, yes," I admitted. "In fact, I went to see Jeff this morning, but he says he doesn't know anything about it and I believe him."

"What about Ricky?"

"I'm not exactly sure where he ended up," I said. "He went to Sing Sing, and then he got paroled, but he was only out for a few months before he got put away for something else."

"Is it possible that he's out again, and that maybe he thinks you have the money?"

I nodded slowly and said, "I would say that's a possibility. I'd be surprised, but…yeah, it's possible."

"Okay, well, we'll track him down and see what he has to say. And we'll go by and talk to Jeff, too. It might be better to get a more…objective opinion."

"I understand."

"But Liz, there's still one thing you haven't told us."

_One_ thing?

It was all I could do not to laugh out loud.

But I didn't.

Instead, I said, "What's that?"

"The felony you committed. I haven't heard it yet."

"The missing money. It's not missing."

TBC...


	24. Chapter 24

**Bernard POV**

* * *

><p>By four-thirty, Lupo and I were ready to call it quits.<p>

The discovery of the car and one of the accomplices had shed some new light on our case, and now things were running full-speed ahead.

Except for the fact that the sit-down with Christina wasn't scheduled until tomorrow.

She claimed to have a migraine and insisted on getting some sleep before talking to the Gorens.

So after we processed the scene at Willow Park, and after we got the ER employees to help us get a sketch of the gunshot victim, to go along with the still from the security footage, and after we speculated in a think-tank-like atmosphere, pondering what in the hell Anna was doing, sleeping with a witness' boyfriend…after all of that, Mary suggested that we call it a night.

Or rather, she reminded us that we were going to reconvene at Steve-O's.

I haven't talked to Lauren since I had to commandeer her case. I sent her a few text messages, but they were more of the dirty, non-work related sort, so I wasn't sure what she was currently working on, but as Lupo and I left 1PP, I sent her another message.

_**How soon can you get to Steve-O's? **_

"Do you need to pick up Connie?" I asked my partner.

"No, she's going to ride over with Cutter. She wanted to make sure he didn't change his mind at the last minute."

My phone buzzed and I read Lauren's text.

_**An hour, maybe. Can you wait that long to see me?**_

"Good. You know, I think he's a pretty decent guy," I replied to Lupo as I smiled and typed my response.

_**I'd rather not wait a minute. You'll have to make it up to me when you get there.**_

"I'm with you," Lupo agreed. "I know I had trouble with him for a little while, but we've sorted out our differences."

"And what are those? Connie's all yours, and as long as he can grasp that then you won't pull your gun on him?"

"Something like that," he said on a laugh. "But seriously, he's come a long way. And I wouldn't wish what he's been through on anyone."

My phone buzzed again, and I read her latest.

_**Are you headed there now?**_

"You know, you could just call her," Lupo said.

"She's still working."

"Barely, if she's taking the time to text you. Please tell me those things aren't pornographic."

"Okay," I said with a smirk. "I won't tell you."

He barked out a laugh and shook his head as I typed in my reply.

_**Me and Lupes are going to make a quick stop first, and then we're going. See you soon. **_

"If you don't mind, I want to swing by SVU before we go to Steve-O's," I told him as I tucked my phone back into my pocket.

"Benson?"

"Yeah. I don't want the fate of that motion resting on my gut instinct about Olivia. I need to ask her face to face, just to be sure before Lauren goes forward."

"I don't blame you. Sure, no problem. Just be careful how you ask the question, though."

"I know how to be diplomatic."

Twenty minutes later, Lupo and I walked into the Manhattan SVU squad room.

"Twice in a couple of weeks," Fin called out. "Are you sure you're not back at IAB?"

"You'd think so, wouldn't you? I bet they do spend a lot of time around this place," I joked back.

"Well, we can't all be Major Case choir boys, can we?"

"Especially not you, Fin."

He laughed as he shook my hand and said, "What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for Detective Benson. Is she around?"

"Last I saw, she and her partner were headed to the break room. You know the way."

"Yeah, thanks," I remarked, then I glanced at Lupo and said, "It'll just take me a minute, so if you don't mind…"

"Don't worry, Bernard. I'll babysit your partner," Fin said, turning to shake Lupo's hand. He introduced himself and the two of them started up a conversation, so I headed down the hall in search of the break room.

I could hear Detective Stabler before I even got to the door.

He was on a rant about something, and as I moved into the doorway, I saw Olivia standing against the counter, sipping from a cup of coffee while her partner spoke animatedly in front of her.

"Bernard," she said when she caught sight of me. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you for a minute."

"Sure. Where's your partner?"

I figured she meant Lauren, since the last time I was here we were still working together, so I said, "It was temporary, remember? She's back in her own house. Lupo's my regular partner. Fin's giving him the welcome-wagon tour."

"Uh oh," she said with a smile, rolling her eyes. Then she said, "Oh, you remember my partner, don't you?"

"Sure. Stabler."

As if I could forget him.

The man has a jacket the size of a small car.

"What's IAB doing around here?" he asked cautiously.

"I'm not with them anymore," I said, working to hold back the sigh. "I haven't been with them for years."

"Oh. Then what can we do for you?"

"Like I said, I just need a few minutes with your partner."

He carefully looked me up and down and then glanced questioningly at Olivia.

"Liv?"

"It's fine, El. He's a friend. I'll catch up to you."

I waited for a moment while Stabler left the room, and then I asked, "Do you remember Bill Flowers?"

"The guy whose DNA popped from your friend's kit," she said immediately.

"I mean, do you remember him from ten years ago."

She narrowed her eyes and asked, "No, why would I?"

"Look, I'm not accusing you of anything, but I have to ask because the defense attorney is throwing out allegations."

"What kind of allegations?"

"You apparently arrested Flowers for a rape and murder ten years ago. You didn't have enough evidence so he took a walk. The defense is claiming that you saw Lauren's case as an opportunity for you to get the one that got away."

"Are you asking me if I deliberately tampered with evidence?"

"He's asking you what?" Stabler asked as he came bursting back into the room.

"I'm only asking because…"

But that was all I got out before Stabler shoved me, pushing me back against the cabinets.

"Elliot," Olivia said sharply.

"No, he comes into our house and accuses you of crap like that?"

He went to shove me again, but I blocked his motion and instead pushed him back away from me.

"You need to take a breath," I told him. "This doesn't concern you."

"If you're insulting my partner, then it does concern me," he retorted. He had his hands balled into fists at his sides and I was expecting him to throw a punch any minute.

"Everything okay in here, B.?"

I glanced over Stabler's shoulder and saw Lupo standing in the doorway.

"Everything is fine," Olivia answered firmly, pushing on Stabler's chest. "El, I'll be ready to go in a minute. Wait for me out in the hall."

"What's his deal?" I asked her quietly once both of our partners had moved back into the hall.

"He's protective."

"He needs to be on a leash. Damn, I barely got the question out. And he was just standing out there listening?"

"Are you here to talk about my partner, or about Flowers?"

I could tell that she was ticked, but I wasn't sure if it was at me for asking or at Stabler for almost starting a brawl.

"All I'm saying is that there's a lot riding on the authenticity of that DNA sample. You might get called to the stand to attest to the fact that it's all on the up and up."

"Okay."

"Okay, so…that won't be a problem for you?"

"You honestly think it would be?"

"No, but I'm not willing to risk Lauren getting justice," I reminded her. "You understand why I have to ask. Because I'd understand why you might feel like the only important thing is that a rapist and a murderer stay behind bars."

"I don't remember the guy from before," she said pointedly. "And even if I did…"

"Enough said."

"Are you sure?" she asked hotly.

"He's screwing her around on a deal, Olivia, and there's already a pre-trial motion in the works, so do you really want to make me out to be the bad guy here?"

She stared at me for a minute and then let out a breath.

"No. I get it. And no, I didn't skew the results or tamper with the evidence. Put me on the stand and I'll swear on a stack of bibles, okay?"

"Okay."

I left the break room and found Lupo and Stabler in the hallway, glaring each other down.

"Come on, Lupes," I said as I walked past him.

Stabler continued to give my partner the evil eye, but Lupo kept his mouth shut and followed me into the squad room.

Well, mostly.

At the last minute, he turned around and called over his shoulder, "You know they make shots for that, Stabler."

"For what?"

"Rabies. You really should get yourself checked out. It might explain that temper."

I started chuckling, but picked up the pace.

"Screw you, Lupo," Stabler yelled back as we hit the elevators.

Stabler came down the hall after us, but Lupo just smiled at him as the doors closed.

"And you were afraid _I _wasn't going to be diplomatic?" I asked in amusement once we were back outside. "Rabies? Really, Lupes?"

"He had it coming," he said with a shrug.

"Yeah, he's always been a hothead."

"So I've heard. But I guess we need to tell the chief about this little incident, huh?"

"You think? I mean, nothing really happened."

"Yeah, but did you see Cragen coming out of his office right as we left? I'd hate for him to make a call and blindside Ross."

"You're right," I agreed.

"So did you find out what you needed to know?"

"You mean did she throw Flowers' head on the chopping block out of revenge? No. She doesn't remember him from the first go-round."

"Okay, so that means everything can go forward as Lauren planned, right? Connie will pull the deal, then you guys make the visit, and afterwards the deal is offered again, only for fifteen years instead of ten."

"Uh huh. And if Schmenke goes through with the pre-trial motion, Connie will have Olivia's affidavit to back up the legitimacy of the sample."

It took us another twenty-five minutes to get to Steve-O's, which made it nearly six o'clock by the time we arrived, and it looked like we were the last ones to make it.

"I thought for sure you'd beat me here. Didn't you say that you were on your way after a quick stop?" Lauren questioned as I sat down next to her.

"It took a little longer than I anticipated."

"I guess now you're going to be the one owing me," she said with a smile.

I took a moment to kiss her. Nothing excessive, since there were so many people around, but just something to tide me over until I could get her alone.

"I wanted to ask Olivia in person," I said quietly after I pulled back. "Just to be sure."

"And are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Good," she said with a nod, and then she took my hand in hers and smiled at me again. "And I don't want to talk about that any more tonight, okay?"

"Sounds like a great plan to me," I agreed.

Because it felt like a carnival in here.

Our group was practically taking up the whole joint.

Four marshals, seven detectives, two lawyers and a billionaire.

Oh, and the chief and the ME, too.

They were at our end of the table and both looked much too serious to be around this crowd.

"What's up, Doc?" I asked Liz.

"I'm pondering the many mysteries of life, Bernard," she said cynically. "What about you?"

"I'm wondering why the second most beautiful woman at this table is looking so sad tonight. Is it the chief?" I teased. "Do I need to rough him up a little bit?"

She smirked and looked over at Ross, who was in mid-sip when I made my comment.

"Rough me up?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at me, but Liz smiled, which was what I'd been hoping for and she leaned into her husband a little bit.

"It's not Danny. It was just a…difficult afternoon," she said, trailing off as she glanced at Lauren.

"And we're not worrying about any of that right now, right?" Lauren asked her.

"You're right," Liz agreed, reaching for her drink. "Okay, so what are we drinking to?"

"Does it matter?" I asked her as I picked up my glass and clinked it against hers.

"No," she answered with a grin.

"Good, so drink up. You, too, boss, because Lupo and I need to tell you about a little run-in we had this evening."

Ross sighed and picked up his glass again, this time killing it of amber liquid.

"How bad?"

"Oh, not that bad. But if Cragen calls you and says we tried to start a brawl in his house, I want to go on record saying that it's not true. We didn't start anything."

"Cragen? Oh, let me guess. It involves Detective Stabler."

"He's not a fan of me," I said wryly. "But I only shoved him a little, and that was after he pushed me."

"You got into a shoving match with him? Who is this guy?" Lauren asked.

"Olivia's partner," I explained.

"I'm guessing Lupo's statement will back up yours?" Ross questioned easily.

"Absolutely, Chief," Lupo spoke up.

"Then I'm not worried about it. So what else is going on? I mean, this is a debriefing, right?"

"We're low on drinks," Logan pointed out.

"Then get another round. They're on Mary tonight, right?"

"Yes, thank you, Bernard."

"Hey, you offered."

"Yes, I did," she agreed with a smile. "So order your poison and let's debrief."

TBC...


	25. Chapter 25

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>I was disappointed that we were going to wait a day to talk to Christina, but considering Lupo and Bernard's find in Willow Park, we had enough to do to keep us busy.<p>

It was bothering me a little that the guy hadn't called Mary today like he'd said he would.

Did that mean that he had information so he didn't need to get it from Mary anymore?

Or were we hitting close to home with our investigation and now he was concerned that we might truly track him?

Obviously, we felt confident about the nature of the threat.

The Albanian mafia faction in New York was headed up by a man named Alek Brozi.

He has two lieutenants, Jetmir Demachi and Tariq Rama.

We knew that Christina was planning to testify against Demachi, but the US Attorney wasn't willing to share what that testimony involved, and as a US Marshal, Mary didn't know the specifics, only that the threat level from the Albanians was high and that it was her job to protect her.

So while we were tracking down the threat, looking into the whereabouts of certain members of the organization, we couldn't know for sure what her testimony was going to do to certain specific people.

Obviously, it would put Demachi behind bars, but who else would be hurt by the testimony?

I mean, this threat could be coming from a guy who looked the other way during shady transactions and he didn't want it to come out in trial because maybe he's in the middle of a custody battle and he doesn't want to risk losing his kids.

And yeah, okay, that'd be a stretch.

What kind of guy would kill two people in order to find and kill a third, just to avoid having his name mentioned disparagingly in open court?

Sadly enough, there are people like that.

And my point is that the possibilities were endless, considering the magnitude of the pending trial.

But today was productive, and I could only hope that tomorrow would be even more so.

The most surprising thing we learned – and for the record, we learned a lot of surprising things today – was that Derek Gilmore and Robert Smith had once been arrested together.

Or at least, they were picked up together. The charges against Gilmore were never officially filed, but it shows that the two men knew each other.

And I know.

It's mind boggling.

But at the same time, it also had me going at this whole thing from a slightly different angle.

And I suddenly had a completely _different_ list of questions to ask Christina.

Tomorrow.

Tonight, it was time to relax.

Because this job can suck the life right out of you if you don't learn to turn it off when the time comes.

And the time was now.

"Johnny's in Boston," Mike said to me when we first arrived at Steve-O's.

He said it low, under his breath and in a rush, like he didn't want to wait another minute to tell me.

"Any luck?"

"Yeah, he managed to get snatched up by O'Connor."

"He what?" Alex said loudly, calling attention to our table. She waved off the questioning stares of the nearby patrons and lowered her voice and said, "So I'm guessing he's okay since you're not halfway to Boston by now."

"He's fine. O'Connor himself called me to confirm that he was on the up and up."

"As opposed to what?"

"An assassin," Mike said, finally relaxing enough to grin.

"Oh my God," Alex said, shaking her head. "I knew him working for you was a bad idea."

"No you didn't. You thought it was a good idea," he argued.

They continued to bicker back and forth until I cleared my throat and said, "Can we get back on point here? What happened, and did Johnny find out anything?"

"Apparently he asked one too many questions in Ryan Mullins' pub. He had a picture of me in his pocket and Mullins called O'Connor."

"Because they thought he was working a hit," I said with a nod. "But why did he have your picture?"

"I asked him that when I finally got to talk to him," Mike said on a chuckle. "He was hoping for a family resemblance, I guess."

"That doesn't make any sense," Alex remarked.

"No kidding," Mike said, lightly bumping against Alex with his shoulder. "He's _your_ old man."

"We're going to try to go up to Boston tomorrow night," Carolyn supplied, interrupting Alex's reply, which would've surely been sarcastic and most likely would've sparked off another friendly squabbling session between her and Mike.

"Because…"

"Because O'Connor says he'd like to drink a beer with me," Mike replied pointedly. "I don't know, but I'm thinking maybe he knows something."

"He certainly feels like he still owes us a debt of gratitude," Carolyn added. "Pulling Johnny aside like that, and then calling Mike to confirm his story…they were really going the extra mile to make sure it was all legit."

"Yes, remind me to thank O'Connor for roughing up my father."

"He didn't get roughed up," Mike promised. "And honestly, your dad sounded like he was on an adrenaline high."

"Yeah, he really did," Carolyn said. "He said he's going to stay up there and snoop around for another day or two."

"Great. One more thing to worry about," Alex commented.

"Not if he's got O'Connor's blessing to be there," I reminded her. "Nobody will touch him."

"That's true."

"And get this," Mike added. "When I took the call, Carolyn and I had just rounded up a couple of mopes out on the island."

"Wait, so your case is looking like the Italians are involved?"

"I know," he agreed. "We've got Mafiosos falling out the wazoo."

"My case is turning into a Mafia sting?" Lauren asked, having arrived in time to pick up on the tail end of our conversation.

"No, _our_ case is," Mike said with a grin. "And you should've seen the looks on their faces when Carolyn told me that Shane O'Connor was on the phone."

"Who's Shane O'Connor?" Lauren questioned as she sat down.

"Irish mobster," Mike told her.

"So they were impressed?" I asked.

"They were intimidated," Carolyn corrected. "And they turned into lapdogs."

"Why would they be afraid of the Boston mob?" Alex questioned, echoing my exact thoughts.

"I don't know. We hit up Berto for nearly two hours, but he wasn't feeling particularly chatty."

"Berto. Who's Berto?" Lauren asked.

"Come on, kiddo. Keep up," Mike teased. "Berto was in Tony's house, and he was shooting at Louie."

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her beer before saying, "It sounds like you've made a mess out of my case."

"Any time you want it back…"

"That's okay. I'm working on more important things right now anyway," she replied casually, her eyes going to Liz and Ross as they entered the bar.

"Yeah, how's that going?" I asked her.

"How's what going?" Carolyn asked, looking back and forth between me and Lauren.

"I'm thinking we'll have it all straight in a day or two."

"Good."

"Okay, so go back to that other thing," Lauren said to Logan. " Why do you have an Irish mobster calling you?"

"Not just any Irish mobster. _The_ Irish mobster," Alex corrected.

"O'Connor called you?" Ross asked.

"Long story," Logan replied. "But I'm doing a little research into my family history."

"I didn't realize your history was in question," Liz commented. "And isn't it kind of difficult? I mean, how much information is out there from so long ago?"

"I'm going to ignore the disparaging remark about my age," he said with a grin. "But seriously, are you kidding me? You can find anything about everything on the internet these days."

"Huh," she replied, nodding thoughtfully. She started to say something more, but then the table suddenly got overrun by marshals.

Dunn, Daniels, McInnis and Mary all showed up together, and within another minute, Cutter and Connie arrived.

The questions about Cutter's well-being were kept brief, because honestly, no one enjoys fielding those types of inquiries.

How many different ways can you say _I'm fine_?

There are other ways to show support without asking him every five minutes if he's doing okay.

And our way tonight was to show him that there was a table full of people who didn't remotely blame him in any way shape or form for what happened to Anna.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Carolyn said to Connie. "I made a call to a friend at the Bureau today. Mulder's in."

"You got him a job that easily?"

"I gave him a quick synopsis of Mulder's skillset and he was practically begging me for his phone number. Of course, I played hard to get and said I'd put Mulder in touch with him."

"You probably just bagged him a nice offer," Connie said. "That's great."

"It'll do the kid a lot of good to get out of his parents' home," Cutter added. "You know, I thought he was a little weird at first, but he kind of grew on me."

"Well, another week or so and he'll probably be ready to have a seat at this table again, so I'm glad to hear it," Connie replied.

"Where are Lupo and Bernard?" Mary asked. "I kicked them out of the squad room forty-five minutes ago."

"They had a quick stop to make," Lauren supplied.

"To find trouble, no doubt," Ross said wryly.

"Oh come on, Chief. You know that's my job," Logan joked.

The waitress stopped by and took drink orders, and smaller conversations sprouted up around the table. I was glad to see that the marshals were including Cutter, and he seemed fairly relaxed, albeit still slightly beat up.

McInnis was a little bit stiff, but Daniels had loosened his tie and Dunn seemed to be telling a joke, so I tuned into her.

"What's the difference between a New York Zoo and a Texas Zoo?" she was saying.

"Our animals are fenced in?" Daniels guessed.

"Ha ha," she said, snorting out a laugh.

"You probably have armadillos and I'm pretty sure Central Park is short on those," Cutter suggested.

"We don't have armadillos in the _zoos_," she said, rolling her eyes at Cutter good-naturedly. "You can see them any time you want, laying in the street with their feet up in the air."

"Dead?"

"Sleeping," she said with a smile. "Or at least that's what we like to say."

"Alright, Austin. Tell us," McInnis said as he finally reached up and tugged on his tie a little.

"I'm not from Austin," she fired back. "I'm from Abilene, and if you call me that, I'm going to be forced to kick your ass."

McInnis threw his hands up in the air, and finally smiled as he said, "My apologies, _Jennifer_. Now are you going to finish the joke, or what?"

"Sure. Okay, so in New York, they hang a sign on the cage that lists the name of the animal, and then the name in Latin."

"Yeah…"

"And in Texas," she continued, thickly laying on the drawl. "We list the name of the animal and then the recipe for how to cook them."

I chuckled as the other three men groaned at her bad joke.

"Oh, come on, y'all," Dunn protested. "That was funny!"

"If you say so," Daniels replied, shaking his head.

I leaned into Alex and whispered, "How long do we have to stay?"

"How come every time we come to one of these things, you're ready to go before everyone even shows up?" she retorted with a smile.

"Because you smile at me," I said simply as I slid my hand over her thigh.

She was wearing jeans today, and the fabric was rough beneath my hand, but I'm not going to deny the fact that I got a lot of enjoyment throughout the day, just from walking behind her.

"I smile at you all the time."

"Uh huh. And I want you all the time."

"Then let's give it an hour and then we'll go home and you can have me."

John showed up a few minutes later, and Lupo and Bernard arrived shortly after that. Bernard sat at the other end of the table, next to Lauren, and Lupo near the middle, dragging an empty chair over so that he could squeeze in next to Connie.

John was closest to me, sitting at the end next to Mary, so I struck up a conversation with him as soon as Mary introduced him to her team.

"When did you get back in town?"

"At three o'clock this morning," Mary said smartly. "And guess what happens when strangers show up on the front porch in the middle of the night?"

"You didn't tell her you were coming?" Alex asked with a smirk.

"I was going to call," John said lamely.

"How bad are you hurt?" I asked knowingly.

"I'll live, although my cell phone is another story. I had to get a new one today."

"I'm not even going to ask," Alex said.

I heard Logan mention something about needing another drink and then Bernard called out, "They're on Mary tonight, right?"

"Yes, thank you, Bernard."

"Hey, you offered."

"Yes, I did," she agreed with a smile. "So order your poison and let's debrief."

So that's what we did.

And we stayed longer than an hour.

It was more like three hours later before we finally called it quits and started the short walk home.

"I can't believe John proposed after Mary tackled him," Alex said on a chuckle as we strolled down the sidewalk. It was a nice night, so we took our time, enjoying the cool night air.

"I can't believe she said yes."

"Really?"

"I know she loves him, but I just didn't see her agreeing to marriage. But I'm happy for them."

"Uh huh," she agreed, leaning her head against my shoulder. "So what do you think O'Connor has up his sleeve?"

"That's a good question."

"And why were those guys out on the island spooked by a phone call from Boston?"

"Another good question."

"Well, how about giving me some answers instead of an analysis of the quality of my interrogatives," she said as she looked up at me and flashed me a smirk.

"I'll give you an answer," I said, returning her smile and suddenly feeling romantic. "Alex."

"Yes?"

"That's the answer."

"Alex," she repeated. "It's the answer to what?"

"To every question in my life," I stated as we entered our building. We got onto the elevator and I loomed in front of her, easing closer until she was pressed against the back wall. "Why am I so happy? Alex. What's the one thing I never want to do without? Alex. Who do I love more than life itself?"

I leaned down slowly, brushing my lips over hers and then pulling back slightly to whisper, "Alex."

As I said her name, I went in for another kiss, this time infusing my need into it and it only took a moment before she was grabbing onto my hips, pulling me flush against her.

I slid my hands into her hair, holding her head in place as I deepened the kiss, ignoring the fact that the elevator doors had opened on our floor.

Although that was probably counter-productive.

The best thing to do would be to move our party into the apartment.

So I took her by the hand and we hurried down the hall.

I started kissing her again while I fished around in my pocket for the keys, and then she moved my hand out of the way and stuck _her_ hand into my pocket, but that lead to things other than us getting inside.

And just when I was ready to take her right here, against the door outside of our apartment, despite the fact that it would be a very ill-advised thing to do since we have a lot of neighbors, not to mention the safety factor involved with making ourselves vulnerable like that…but just when I was about to throw all of that to the wind, my cell phone rang.

"No," she murmured, barely pulling her lips away from mine long enough to say the word.

"But…"

"I know," she sighed, finally ending the kiss.

Because Mike's got things going on, and we've got this case, and something's up with Liz, and honestly, there are just too damn many things that could be wrong for us to intentionally avoid a phone call.

"Who is it?" she asked once I pulled it out.

"I'm not sure," I said after looking at the display. I hit the button and said, "Goren."

"I'm sorry to bother you, and I know we didn't leave on the best of terms, but…"

"Hang on. Who is this?"

"Officer Bishop," she answered, and she only sounded slightly bitter about the title.

"Um…okay," I answered.

By now, Alex had recovered the keys from my pocket and so we were inside of the apartment, and she was locking up behind us.

When she turned around, I mouthed _Bishop _and she looked at me in confusion. I pulled the phone away from my ear and clicked it into speaker–mode.

"Yeah, I know you're probably surprised to hear from me," Bishop said. "But this is important, and I couldn't, in good conscience, just ignore it, and really, I don't have a problem with you or Eames. I mean, Goren. Your wife."

Alex rolled her eyes and rolled her hand in a circular motion, silently encouraging Bishop to get to the point.

"Anyway, maybe we can discuss those misconceptions another time, but for now, do you remember my informant, Ronnie Wilson?"

"The one who bought the stolen red Mercedes in exchange for Percocet."

"He's the one. Well, he called me just a few minutes ago."

"I didn't realize you're still in the informant business," I said as nicely as possible.

"I'm not, but he still has my card. Anyway, he was on his corner when a man approached him. This guy had photographs and he was trying to get names put to the faces."

"Bishop, I'm not following you. What does this have to do with me?"

"You were in one of the pictures. You and Alex. Ronnie recognized you from when you arrested him."

"And…did he give up our names?"

"No. But sooner or later somebody will."

TBC...


	26. Chapter 26

**Mary POV**

* * *

><p>"Oh my God, I'm one of those women, aren't I?"<p>

"One of what women?"

"You know, one of those with a big sappy smile on my face, and thinking that all is right with the world because I'm all _in love_, and every unattached person I see, I suddenly want to fix them up so that they can be just as deliriously happy as I am…bleh, I can hardly stand myself."

John laughed as he unlocked the door to his penthouse suite.

"What's so damn funny?" I said as I followed him inside.

"You," he answered.

He grabbed me as he kicked the door closed behind us and he kissed me hard, backing me into the wall.

"You know what I want?" he asked after several, arousal-inspiring minutes.

"I'm hoping it involves getting me out of my clothes and a re-creation of something from chapter nine of _Kama Sutra_."

He laughed again and looked at me questioningly.

"Chapter nine?"

"Yeah, it's…oh, never mind. I can show you better than I can tell you."

"I'm just wondering when you read _Kama Sutra_."

"I was a curious kid," I said as I tugged on his suit jacket. "And my mom was always too sloshed to tell me anything about sex other than _a man will say anything to get into your pants, honey_."

"So you read _that_?" he asked, still smiling.

"Among other things."

"Good to know. I might have to pick up a copy."

"No need. I've got it in one of those unpacked boxes at my place."

"I'd say we need to finish unpacking then."

"Definitely. But first, I think I interrupted you," I said as I successfully rid him of his tie and dress shirt, and then I pulled his t-shirt over his head before running my hands across his chest and then delving lower to tackle the belt buckle.

"I like your idea better. For the moment, anyway."

He started kissing me again and my hands faltered as I struggled to undo his belt, because damn, the man knows how to kiss.

I finally gave up altogether and dropped my hands, leaning my head back against the wall as he continued his vigorous and pleasurable assault on me.

I got so caught up in it, I'm not even sure when he managed to get my blouse off of me.

Or my pants.

But suddenly, I was down to next to nothing, and he was still in his slacks, so I forced my lethargic hands into motion and remedied the problem.

"So show me," he whispered as he slid his hands behind me to unhook my bra while his lips worked over my neck.

"I think at this point, I'm showing you everything I've got."

He chuckled and moved his lips up to my ear, taking the lobe between his teeth in a way that just drives me crazy.

In a good way, I mean.

"Chapter nine," he murmured.

_Oh_.

Believe it or not, I'd actually forgotten.

I was having such a good time right here up against the wall.

But I'd apparently piqued his curiosity now, and who am I to argue with his inquisitive nature?

"Okay, but keep in mind I'm going strictly from memory. I might not get it exactly right."

"I'm pretty sure that won't matter."

It didn't.

And for the record, I think I did get it right.

Chapter six, too.

We were both sweaty and exhausted but completely satiated by the time we finished, as we lay sprawled sideways across the massive bed.

"Tomorrow, I'm going to find that book," he said.

"I'm going to have to stretch out first next time."

"You did just fine," he said.

He trailed his fingers along my back in a soothing pattern that was surely going to put me to sleep. I should probably shower first, but I wasn't enthusiastic enough about that thought to make it a reality.

Not when he was still making me feel good.

Talking, touching, making love…the man just always knows exactly what I need.

And it was nice to be back here, in his suite.

We hadn't stayed here in a while, and of course we were at Mike's last night due to safety precautions.

But I felt okay about coming here tonight.

Despite Alex's suggestion that maybe the Millennium wasn't safe, I had to disagree.

There are security cameras everywhere, and a special key is required to get to the top floor, and aside from that, John had, at some point during the day, hired a bodyguard who made a sweep of the entire floor when we arrived while John and I waited in the lobby, and then the guard had escorted us up in the elevator, and he was currently parked in a chair at the end of the hall that leads to the suite.

The most dangerous thing we did was swing by my apartment on our way here.

Our guy in question obviously knows my name, so it probably wouldn't be hard for him to find where I live. Not like Bobby and Alex, or Lupo and Bernard. I'm pretty sure he doesn't know their names, or he would've used them to impress me.

But so we went to the apartment and Lauren and Bernard were with us.

I made a quick trip through, just grabbing enough clean clothes to get me through the week, and then we waited while Lauren did the same because she and Bernard were going to his place.

Not that we thought she was high up on the hit list, but if they know my building, and they'd put eyes on the place at all, then it was possible that they'd seen her, too, so it just made sense.

In fact, I wish I'd considered that last night, but I didn't, and nothing happened, so I couldn't afford to beat myself up over it.

I just had to be smarter in the future.

About everything.

Because last night, I'd only instructed everyone to be vigilant.

But today, I'd changed my directive.

Maybe because after day two we still had too many loose ends that didn't add up, and my conversation with Christina hadn't shed light on things like I might have hoped.

It was the first time we'd really talked, because aside from the car ride from the marshals' office to the air strip on Long Island, I hadn't spent any time with her.

Her indoctrination process had been handled by my team.

Or more specifically, largely by Anna Holly.

Christina was quiet and sullen while we were in the car.

We drove around for a while, with Bobby and Alex behind us, until they gave us the all-clear and headed back to 1PP.

At that point, McInnis turned the car towards New Rochelle.

The Secret Service has a house there that they use from time to time, and when need dictates, we borrow it. They have agents who man the security of the home, so it frees up our marshals to track the threat rather than babysit.

We try not to wear out our welcome in these kinds of situations, but without a doubt, this time it was a necessity.

We got to the house and I went through the security process with the intake agent, and then we moved Christina into the home.

"_Give us a minute,"_ I said to McInnis.

Because I was livid about the text I'd received earlier, the one stating that Christina had a prepaid cell.

McInnis raised his eyebrow at me, clearly knowing my level of anger but not familiar enough with me to know what I was going to do about it.

I had to appreciate his concern, and so I made the decision to let him hang around.

Either he'd like my approach or he wouldn't, but maybe it was better to find that out now.

"_Or not,"_ I told him agreeably. "_I was going to do this in private, but you know what, Christina? You've been dicking around with us since you got into the program, and considering you haven't shown us any respect, then I'm not going to give you any either. Now give me the damn phone."_

"_What phone?"_

I stared at her hard, but she barely flinched.

"_Okay, let's get something straight. I know you don't know me yet, so I'll give you some time to get up to speed."_

I paused for a second, and then said, "_Are we good?"_

"_Good?"_

"_Yeah, good. You know…I mean, the learning curve is over. Here's the way it works. You get one screw up with me and you just used it, so the next time you lie to me, you won't have to worry about the Albanians killing you because I'll do it myself. Understood?"_

"_Um…yeah."_

"_Good. So what's it going to be?"_ I asked as I pulled my gun from its holster.

And okay, so maybe that was a little over the top, but whatever.

I mean, it's not like I actually pointed it at her or anything.

Instead I just popped out the magazine and looked at it briefly before slamming it back into place, creating a nice, gratifying sound, and then I asked, "_Are you going to give me the phone?"_

Two seconds later, I had the contraband in my hand.

"_Why would you do something that'll get you kicked out of the program_?" McInnis asked her.

"_I needed to be in touch with him."_

"_With him_," I repeated. "_Derek?"_

"_Yes."_

"_And Anna?"_

She hesitated, but then eyeballed the gun still in my hand and nodded her head.

"_You know she's dead, right_?" McInnis said, and it belatedly occurred to me how all of this was effecting him.

She was his _partner._

And true, according to the files I'd read on my team, the two of them had only worked together for a short amount of time, but still…it doesn't usually take very long for that protective bond to form.

"_Anna?"_ Christina asked in surprise.

"_And Derek,"_ I said. She paled visibly, and I added, "_What's wrong? Did you think they were just ducking your calls?"_

"_I didn't…I wasn't…"_

And then she did something completely unexpected.

She threw up.

And I've got to say it…if she'd gotten it on my shoes, I might've used my gun on her.

She _did_ get it on McInnis' shoes though and he looked at me with a mixed expression of surprise and disgust as Christina ran for the bathroom.

"_That did not just happen,"_ he grumbled as he pulled out his handkerchief and started swiping at his shoes.

"_You think she can do that kind of thing on command?"_ I mused as I looked towards the bathroom where she was still retching.

"_It's in her file,"_ he said. "_She gets migraines."_

"_That one came on pretty fast."_

McInnis stood back up and said, "_Can you not mention this to anyone?"_

"_That she yakked on your Tanino Crisci shoes?"_

"_How'd you know?"_

"_How'd I know you're wearing thirteen hundred dollar shoes? Because I get paid to notice things. And in case you forgot, I live with a guy who has money, and he happens to have a few pair just like them. So tell me why we're keeping this a secret?"_

He sighed and looked down at his shoes again and then tossed his soiled handkerchief into the trashcan.

"_Daniels was making fun of me about the shoes,"_ he admitted. "_He says they're not practical for the job and that I'm trying to show off that I have money. Which I don't. I mean, I do have some, but I just happen to like shoes."_

"_Okay," _I said with a nod. "_I get it. My lips are sealed."_

"_I need to lie down,_" Christina mumbled as she finally emerged from the bathroom.

"_We still have things to discuss,"_ I told her. "_I've got a couple of people who want to talk with you, and I expect you to answer their questions. And frankly, I've got a few questions myself."_

"_I can't right now_," she said as tears filled her eyes. "_Please. I need to take some medicine and get into bed. Can we talk tomorrow?"_

In the end, I conceded.

Mostly because she was as white as a sheet and she looked like she might fall over at any second, and I felt slightly bad for her since she'd just learned that two people she may have cared about were dead.

And I only say _slightly_ because the jury's still out on whether or not their deaths are partly due to her negligence, but still…I might be a hard ass, but I do have a heart.

So McInnis and I left, and I gave strict instructions to the agents that no one…_absolutely_ no one…was allowed into the house unless I was in attendance.

No phone authorization…no notarized documentation…just me in person.

Of course, if something happens and I end up dead, I'm not sure what'll happen to Christina, but I'm going to keep my fingers crossed that I manage to stay alive for a while longer.

But considering all of our unanswered questions, and the flagrant regulations violations, and the fact that creepy guy from the phone yesterday hadn't called back yet, I felt like I needed to up the alert.

So starting tonight, my entire team was shacked up in a Witsec safe house, although Dunn – or Jennifer as she kept insisting – was less than thrilled.

"_You're really putting a cramp in my nightlife, Mary_," she'd said to me.

"_Better you be a living spinster than a dead party girl."_

"_Uh huh. Says the woman going home with the gorgeous billionaire."_

"_You think he's gorgeous?" _

She rolled her eyes at me and smiled.

"_He's a Greek God, okay? And yeah, sure. I'll go play gin rummy with Daniels while he bitches about his wife spending the week at his in-laws in Vermont."_

"_Vermont? I'd think he'd only be bitching if he was the one having to spend the week up there."_

She laughed and then said good night, and I felt like I'd really made a lot of headway with my team.

They seemed to have a good time at Steve-O's, and McInnis was not only impressed with my enforcer-routine I used with Christina, but also with the fact that I was more than willing to keep his secret.

I mean, hey, I can understand a shoe fetish.

I don't have one, but I do have an odd fondness for my Levi's, so who am I to judge?

But all in all, I was pleased with our progress, both on the case and on a personal level. Mike Cutter looked a hundred times better than he had when I saw him on Sunday night, and he seemed relieved that none of my team held any animosity towards him.

I'm not sure what he was expecting…a public stoning, maybe.

But the truth of the matter is that he was a victim, just like Anna.

And it was only by the grace of God that he came out of the incident alive, because the nut job with the gun could've just as easily shot him instead of hit him.

"What are you thinking about?" John asked me, his voice a low rumble as his fingers continued their random pattern over my sweat-dampened back.

"Isn't that supposed to be the girl's question?" I teased.

"Are you calling me a girl?"

"After a performance like that? Not on your life."

"Good. So?"

"Earlier. You were going to tell me what you wanted when I sort of got us off track."

"I like the way you get us off track," he replied with a smile, and then he leaned closer so that he could kiss me, this time slowly and wonderfully sensuously.

"We might have to get off track again," I murmured against his lips.

"First…I've got something for you," he said as he got up from the bed and moved over to the entryway where his jacket was lying on the floor.

"Wait, let me guess. You bought me another bed from London."

I sat up and watched him as instead of getting anything out, he just picked up his jacket and brought it over to the bed.

"It's nice, but I'm not sure it'll fit me. And really, it's already been worn, so…"

I stopped abruptly when he pulled a box from the pocket.

"You said yes when I asked badly, so I think I'm safe to try to put a little romance into it this time."

"Okay," I said, surprising myself by sounding breathless.

I mean, I _feel_ breathless.

I've got this incredible man standing in front of me…incredible, _naked_ man…and he loves me and wants me to marry him.

Enough so that he already bought the ring, because the name on the box was from a jeweler in London, so he had it even before this morning…even though he surely had to expect that it would take me a lot longer to say yes.

Hell, _I_ thought it would take me longer. Out of stupidity of course, because a blind man can see that he's perfect for me, but still…

"Okay, so….this is still a good idea, right?" he asked cautiously.

"How long have you been carrying that thing around with you?"

"It's been in your apartment," he said with a grin.

"At my place?"

"Hey, you gave me a drawer. You didn't specify what I could put in it."

Before I could respond, he pulled me up from the bed and then opened the box with one hand as he took hold of my left hand with the other.

"Yes," I said.

"I didn't ask yet," he teased.

"You committed to buying the cow, remember?" I reminded him, and I can't help but feel nervous and excited and just so freaking ridiculously in love.

"Not my most romantic statement," he said. "But Mary…I love you, and I can't think of anything I want more than for you to be my wife."

And out of nowhere, my eyes suddenly filled with tears.

I mean, as I mentioned, I was married once before.

I've even sort of been in love before, although not to the man I married.

But I've never once felt like this.

"You're going to keep me in suspense?"

"Yes. I mean, no, I'm not. I'm saying yes. Again."

He slid the ring onto my finger and then wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly to him.

"Was this proposal better?" he whispered into my ear.

"This was pretty damn good. But you know, the first one was kind of nice, too. You were all bloody, and I looked like a frumpy old maid…it's the stuff memories are made of."

He chuckled lightly and kept hugging me and then he ran his hands over my back and said, "I want us to buy a house together, either before or after we get married, it doesn't matter. But let's get a house and then I'll get my dog back from Rocco and the three of us can live happily ever after."

"Yes, but only to two of those things."

"No house?"

"Let Rocco keep Dynamite. He loves that dog," I pointed out. And he really does, which is why I forgave him for keeping the dog's original name. "We'll get our own."

"Huh," he said thoughtfully. "Yeah, you're right. We need to get one with a surly disposition that matches yours."

"Wow, two seconds after I say yes and you're already insulting me."

He pulled back from me and put his hands along my cheeks, kissing me firmly before saying, "What can I say? Your sarcasm is infectious."

"You make that sound like a communicable disease."

"Yes, but the best kind of communicable disease," he joked.

"Uh huh. So…you still didn't tell me what you want. From earlier, I mean."

"Sure I did. You. A house. A dog. The whole kit and caboodle."

"And that's it?"

"No, you know, there is one more thing."

He let his eyes slowly wander down over me in such a way that had me tingling from anticipation, despite the fact that he wasn't even touching me anymore.

"Anything. I'm feeling generous, so take advantage," I offered suggestively.

He smiled and took me by the hand, weaving his fingers through mine and then he said, "Well, I think we need to start at the beginning. Show me chapter one."

TBC...


	27. Chapter 27

**Hayes POV**

* * *

><p>With Janis tucked under my arm, I followed Bernard into his apartment.<p>

And let me tell you, he's got a nice place.

Not necessarily the building itself. I mean, it's a fairly normal apartment building, with adequate security and a clean lobby.

But the décor…it's like something you'd expect of a GQ model or something.

Swanky, upscale…a real bachelor pad.

A player's crib.

The first time I saw this place, I was instantly intimidated.

"_You actually live here?"_ I'd asked.

"_You think it's a front for my real place_?" he replied in amusement.

"_No, I'm just…wow."_

"_Thank you. I think."_

"_You've got an interesting style."_

"_Interesting. Is that a euphemism for something?"_

And he'd looked concerned.

As though he was afraid I might be seeing a side of him I didn't care for, and that maybe the whole tenuous thing we were working towards might be over before it ever really began.

"_No,"_ I said quickly. _"I guess I just thought…I don't know. That your place would be a little more…"_

"_Homey?"_

"_Exactly."_

"_I hired a decorator,"_ he admitted. _"And that's exactly what I told her when I saw it for the first time. She insisted I'd get used to it."_

"_And did you?"_

"_Not yet_," he said with that sweet and sexy smile of his.

One that made me want to kiss him.

Of course, at the time, I hadn't gotten that brave yet, so instead I'd just dared to glance down at his lips briefly before asking, "_How long have you been here?"_

"_Six years, so I don't know," _he said, a smile still playing on his lips._ "Do you think I just haven't given it enough time yet?"_

"Are you coming in?" Bernard asked me, pulling me from my reverie.

"Sure," I said, moving further into the foyer.

But honestly, I was afraid to set Janis down. How quickly would her white hair cover every immaculate surface in this place?

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I'm just wondering if maybe I should've gotten a neighbor to watch her," I said, nodding towards Janis.

"Why? She's fine," he said as he reached for her. He patted her head and then set her down easily before looking back up at me. "You hate my place, don't you?"

"It's not that."

"Then what?"

"Honestly? It reminds me of my dad's place. And I was always paranoid that I was going to break something, or scratch something, or…"

"Lauren," he said, chuckling lightly as he pulled me into his arms. "Relax. I hate this place, too. And I don't care if you break and scratch everything in here. Maybe that'll motivate me to redecorate."

"You need motivation?" I asked, slipping out of his embrace as I wandered closer to the dining room, with its thick, smoked-glass table adorned with a ceramic vase filled with fake red flowers.

"If it were up to me, I'd just spend all of my time your place," he said, and then he added, "Oh, I mean…you know what I'm saying. Just that I _like_ yours and it's comfortable…I'm not suggesting we move in together or anything."

I smiled at his stumbling back-pedaling, enjoying the fact that sometimes the wrong words came from his mouth just like they do mine.

Because I know what he means.

We're both comfortable at my place.

And it's too early in our relationship to consider co-habitation and yet at the same time, we were practically already doing it and it feels perfectly natural.

"Hey, B.," I said as I backed up against the edge of the glass monstrosity.

"Yeah?"

"Let's see how much damage we can do to this table."

He flashed me a predatory smile as he moved closer to me.

"I'm not sure this thing was built to hold a guy like me."

"Are you scared?" I challenged.

Apparently not.

He advanced on me with deceptive quickness, grabbing onto my hips and setting me onto the table as he brought his mouth down to mine for a crushing kiss.

I scooted back without breaking contact, and he moved with me, his hands on either side of me, braced on the surface of the table.

I reached behind me to shove the hideous vase out of the way, and then I laid back, bringing him down on top of me.

Never had I imagined that a pretentious piece of furniture like this table would provide such a sturdy surface, but it did, and it actually felt good against my back, once he finished getting me out of my clothes, and the whole experience turned out to be quite memorable.

And afterwards, somewhere in the back of my demented cop's mind, I couldn't help but think what a field day a CSU tech would have were it ever necessary to dust this place for prints.

"What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing," I replied. "I'm weird."

"So am I. Are you thinking about the incredible ass print CSU could pull off this table?"

I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my laugh.

I was still chuckling about it as we finally forced ourselves to move from the table into the living room, where we stretched out on his sofa and watched the Lakers play the Nuggets.

And I'm not ready to admit it out loud yet, but I found myself pulling for the Lakers just a little.

"So are you liking my place a little better now?" he asked when he clicked off the TV set.

The Lakers had just pulled off the win, and it was well past midnight, but even though he'd shut off the TV, we continued to lay together in the darkness.

"I like any place with you in it," I told him. "Although…"

"What?"

"I'm not sure I motivated you into redecorating. I mean, that table's still standing."

"We can always try again," he said suggestively as he ran his hand over my hip.

"Yes, we can," I agreed, letting my eyes fall closed as he shifted against me, bringing my backside firmly against him. "Or we can test out the bed. I can't believe you've never invited me to sleep in it before now."

"Maybe that's what I had in mind the last time you came over."

"You hadn't even kissed me yet," I pointed out.

"Doesn't mean I didn't fantasize about getting you into my bed."

"You did not," I argued lightly. "You still thought I had a thing for Lupo."

"Do we really want to talk about Lupo right now?" he asked, his voice deep and rumbling as he moved his leg in between mine.

He moved my hair out of the way and then started kissing along the back of my neck.

"No," I answered.

"Good. Then turn around," he said, encouraging me to roll towards him.

Because he knows me enough to know that I need control, and I need to be looking him in the eye when we make love, but I realized that as far as we'd come during this sensuous little make-out session, I was still okay with the fact that I wasn't facing him.

I wasn't scared, because really, how could I ever be scared with him?

And as much as my past has been coming alive for me lately, maybe it was a good thing.

Maybe once and for all, I'd be able to move past it.

"Or do you want to go into the bedroom?" he asked since I still hadn't responded, and I hadn't turned around.

"No. Right here. Just like this."

So we did.

And I could lie and say that the images from that long-ago night didn't once enter my mind.

But I won't.

Instead, I'll say that _only_ once, just in those first moments, did I think about it.

And after that, I let myself go.

It was nearly two o'clock in the morning before we finally got settled in his large and surprisingly comfortable bed.

And I was wide awake.

So while I listened to Bernard's steady breathing as he slept next to me, I thought about Liz.

And I know.

That probably sounds strange.

But despite what I'd learned about her today, I had a feeling that it was only the tip of the iceberg.

"_What do you mean it isn't missing_?" I'd asked her.

The drug money.

"_I mean I took it,"_ she stated.

"_I don't believe that,"_ I insisted. "_You lied to DEA agents, and you kept a hundred thousand dollars of drug money?"_

"_Not exactly,"_ she admitted. "_I didn't know about it at first. That entire summer…I was depressed and insecure, and I had no idea what to do with myself. I mean, for my future. Jeff and I had planned on going to community college. I knew I wanted to be a doctor, but money was tight and it was going to take me such a long time to be able to figure out a way to pay for it…at the time, I kind of gave up on that idea. I mean, Jeff was in prison and back then, he was about all I had."_

"_So what happened? Did you find the money stashed somewhere in your apartment?"_

By this time, Liz and I were sitting in a diner across the street from the morgue.

After confessing that she knew about the money, she looked like she was on the verge of…something, so I'd suggested the change of venue, and Eames offered to go back to 1PP and get started tracking down the current whereabouts of Ricky Alvarez.

So on our second cup of coffee, she finally met my gaze and then she sighed heavily and said, _"It came in the mail."_

"_A hundred thousand dollars?"_

"_A cashier's check."_

"_From whom?"_

"_Chase Manhattan Bank,"_ she said with a shrug. "_It was made payable to Boston College. I'd applied there, kind of as a joke because there was no way I could afford it. Jeff knew that I'd been accepted."_

"_So it was college tuition_," I stated. "_Jeff had the money all along_."

"_I thought so_," she agreed. "_There was a note in with the check. It said: **I want you to have this. Don't**__** try to return it, or you'll just stir up trouble. Get out of this city and make something of yourself**__."_

"_Wow. Okay_," I said as I jotted that down in my notes. "_And that's it?"_

"_No_," she admitted, glancing down at the table briefly before bringing her eyes back to mine. _"It also said __**I'll always love you**__."_

We stared at each other, and I can't swear to what she was thinking, but I had goose bumps.

I couldn't help it.

It almost sounded romantic, in a Bonnie and Clyde kind of way.

I mean, the guy was going to prison and he'd clearly gotten away with taking that money and yet he was risking getting caught by giving it to her, to make sure she had a better life, even knowing it would be a life without him.

"_Liz, that's…"_

"_Criminal,"_ she finished. "_I took drug money to pay for college."_

"_Okay, let's come back to the moral discussion,"_ I said. _"For now, let's talk about what that has to do with your current situation."_

"_Well, I thought that maybe Jeff was trying to track me down. That either he just wanted to find me because…well, because…"_

"_Because he still loves you,"_ I supplied.

"_Right. Or because maybe he wants the money back."_

"_So you went and talked to him. What did you find out?"_

"_He claims to have no knowledge about anything. And he was genuinely surprised to see me. When I told him that I didn't have it anymore, meaning the money, he said he had no idea what I was talking about."_

"_But you wouldn't have it anymore. I mean, it was payable to Boston College."_

"_True. But maybe he thought I've had enough time to save up and repay him. I don't know."_

"_So if it's not him, that leaves us with Ricky."_

"_I guess."_

"_Why do you sound hesitant? Was there someone else who might have known about it? And actually Ricky makes more sense, because if he knew that Jeff had the money, he might not have known that he gave it to you like that. Maybe he thought you were just keeping it for him." _

"_Maybe."_

"_Liz…what aren't you telling me?"_

At that point, my phone signaled an incoming text. Not one from Bernard – I've got him on a different setting. This one was from Eames.

_**I found Ricky Alvarez. Day trip to Jersey tomorrow.**_

"_Okay, Eames found Ricky. It looks like we'll be paying him a visit tomorrow."_

"_Good,"_ she said in a way that sounded more like she meant the opposite.

"_And?"_

"_Talk to him and see what he has to say. If it's not him, then we'll dig a little deeper."_

"_Into what? Because that one call came from Washington Heights, and Eames says Ricky's in New Jersey, so…"_

"_Let's take it one step at a time."_

After that, I'd walked her back to the morgue and then met up with Eames again.

Tomorrow, or rather _today_, we'd make the two-hour drive over to Montague, New Jersey to get a feel for Ricky Alvarez.

But despite evidence pointing in his general direction, Liz's lack of conviction about him made me curious.

Would he really try to come after her after thirty years, just because he thought she had money that was rightfully his?

And why would he have called from Washington Heights? We'd learned that the call placed to the morgue had come from that vicinity, too.

So was he cruising through their old stomping grounds, hoping to find her?

It didn't make much sense that he'd do that, especially not if he knows her current identity, which he must since that's how he tracked her to the morgue and to Ross' house.

So why not just try to approach her? It was a scary thought, and yet wouldn't that be the expected MO of a paroled felon?

Although maybe the call was just to confirm that he had the right person…had she fooled him with her denial? Probably not, since he'd called twice.

I felt my eyes getting heavy as my brain was overcome with unanswered questions, and then Bernard whispered my name and pulled me closer to him.

_He's still asleep_, I realized.

Which means he must be dreaming about me.

On that pleasant thought, I forced my brain into the off-position and drifted off to sleep.

TBC...


	28. Chapter 28

**Lupo POV**

* * *

><p>"Hey, McClane – when are you and the ten coming to pick me up? I'm wilting out here. I mean, dude…I can literally <em>feel<em> myself fading away, you know what I'm saying? I need the city, dude. I need the excitement. It's in my blood now."

"That's called morphine."

"Nah, dude, shit…I quit taking that last week. I don't like anything that slows down the brain cells, you know what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, I get it," I agreed. I hate to say it, but it almost seems like Mulder getting shot was turning out to be a good thing. The kid's downright giddy. "So what happened to the boy who didn't want to leave the house?"

"Come on, man! That's so ten days ago, right? I mean, shit…I can feel the walls closing in on me, you know what I'm saying? It's like…I don't know. It's like I'm not backward compatible, right? And I've just gotta bang out, and if I barf, then I barf, but I've gotta _know_, you know?"

"Look, Mulder…I understand that it's tough to wait out a recovery, but if you're still feeling nauseous, then…"

"What?"

"You said you might barf, so…"

"I'm not gonna _hurl_, man. Shit. I mean _fail_," he said as he erupted into laughter. "Dude, just when I think you're feeling me, you go and get all literal and shit. I'm talking about a cold boot, man. Scratch. Day one. You got me?"

"I got you."

"Seriously? Or are you just saying that shit so that you don't lose coolness points?"

"I have coolness points?"

"Off the chart, dude. Shit. So when can you come?"

"I'm not sure. Tonight, maybe. I'll have to see how work goes."

"You're bringing the ten, right?"

"You mean my wife?" I asked wryly.

"Yeah," he answered, sounding slightly wistful. "Yeah, that hook-up scored you some bonus coolness points, dude. How'd you get a chica like that anyway?"

"Thank you, Mulder."

"Nah, dude, I'm just saying…shit."

"Uh huh. So where do you want to go? I mean, if we can come to pick you up."

"I just wanna hang, dude. Shit. That night…you know, the night that…"

He trailed off for a minute, but then he powered ahead and said, "At Steve-O's. The night you iced the creepy stalker dude. That night was awesome."

"Mulder…."

"Yeah, I know I got shot, but I mean before…hanging with you guys and hearing all the cop-talk," he said quietly, sounding almost like a normal adult. "And everyone there was nice and they acted like they were interested in what I had to say and I didn't feel like…I don't know. Like such a Dilbert, right?"

I was at a loss for words at his unexpected outpouring.

The poor kid was just lonely and felt like an outcast.

"Connie and I will come out tonight and we'll hit up Steve-O's, okay?"

"Major fucking coolness points, Lupo," he replied. And then suddenly he was back in high gear again. "And seriously, dude. We've got some shit to talk about because you're not gonna fucking believe what Carolyn did."

Of course, I knew what she'd done.

But I wasn't going to steal his thunder.

So I shifted the phone from one ear to the other and then settled in for his monologue.

I was already halfway to Bernard's place, where he and Lauren were staying. I was giving them both a ride this morning, since apparently Lauren and Eames were going to work from 1PP for a while since they were doing the chief's bidding.

Which involved what, I'm not exactly sure, but I figured I'd hear about it soon enough.

Or I wouldn't.

Either way, I trusted that it would get handled.

Mulder wrapped up his colorful and enthusiastic recount of the offer that Carolyn had assured him would come, once he made contact with the agent.

"So I should call him, right?" he asked.

"If you want the job."

"I do, but dude…you know, phone chit-chat isn't really my kind of interface, right? What if he flips the kill-switch?"

"You think you'd be better off in person?"

"Good point. Dude…shit. Now what?"

"I'm sure that Carolyn gave him a heads-up, okay? You just be you, and if he pulls the deal, then we'll get you in at the NYPD. There's always a place for a mind like yours. Sometimes you just have to find where you fit in best."

I ended my call with him after once again promising to make the drive to Secaucus tonight, and then I pulled over alongside the curb in front of Bernard's building.

There wasn't any legal place to park, so I sent Bernard a text while I stayed behind the wheel, with the car idling next to a fire hydrant.

_**Five minutes**_, was my partner's responding message.

I should've gone up and knocked. It might've been entertaining to see the two of them rushing around getting ready for work like a married couple.

Or maybe they weren't rushing around.

Maybe they were dressed and almost out the door when they suddenly decided to have a last-minute quickie, and so they were presently plastered up against their front door, more dressed than not and yet still working each other into a frenzy.

And yeah, okay, so even though I started that scenario in my head with Bernard and Hayes, I finished it with me and Connie.

Because that's almost exactly what happened with us this morning.

"_You sure you don't want a ride_?" I asked her as I pulled on my jacket.

"_No, I'll just drive. If you want, let Bernard take the car home tonight and I'll pick you up."_

"_Okay,"_ I agreed. B. and I routinely went back and forth as to who drove and who kept the car overnight. Neither of us really had a preference, so we didn't have a set thing. "_You're going to talk to Schmenke today_?"

"_Uh huh. I'm going to enjoy telling him where he can shove his strings."_

"_Don't say it like that,"_ I said on a chuckle. "_It just doesn't sound vicious enough."_

"_I'll be sure to convey the proper sentiment,_" she assured me as she followed me to the front door. "_I'm usually pretty good at getting my point across."_

"_Yes, you are, Counselor_," I replied, turning around so that I could kiss her goodbye. "_Call me later and maybe we can catch up for lunch."_

"_I'll probably be in court most of the day."_

"_Oh. If I'd known that, I would've set the alarm for a few minutes earlier."_

"_Why?"_

"_Well, now I'm going to have to wait almost twenty-four hours before I have another chance to make love to you…that's just wrong. We're newlyweds. We need to get in at least two a day."_

She made a point of checking her watch and then a slow smile spread across her face as she took the coffee cup from my hand and set it on the side table.

"_What time are you picking up Bernard?"_

"_In half an hour."_

"_It's only a twenty-minute drive if you put the siren on."_

And yeah, so it wasn't _almost_ exactly what happened with me and Connie this morning.

It was _exactly_ what happened.

I'd had her right there against the door, just like we'd done on our first date.

And it was every bit as good…better, even. The only bad thing was that since Mulder had called, I couldn't put the siren on, or else it would've made it hard to hear, but I guess it worked out okay since my partner still wasn't ready.

I pulled out my phone again, preparing to send another text, when the two of them finally came out of the lobby.

"It's about time," I grumbled good-naturedly as they got into the car.

"You weren't on time either," Bernard pointed out.

"Which means you should've been ready."

"I _was_ ready. And then since you weren't here, I decided to take care of a few more things before coming down stairs."

"Uh huh," I replied, glancing at Lauren in my rearview mirror. "You got anything to add to that?"

"No, but if they chief asks me why I'm late, I'll throw you under the bus in a heartbeat."

She was kidding, of course, and she definitely looked better today than she did yesterday.

Hopefully there were no nightmares last night.

I'd be glad when this Flowers thing was settled, so I could just imagine how anxious _she_ was to be done with it.

Bernard, too.

I'd been debating whether or not I should tag along on the visit tonight, mostly just to keep him in check, but it sounds like Mulder needs me more than they do.

They probably don't need me at all.

I mean, what's Bernard going to do?

Kill the guy while they're in the visitor's room?

When we got to 1PP, Eames was waiting outside for Lauren.

"Ready to head for the Garden State?"

"What's in Jersey?" I asked, unable to curb my curiosity.

"Blueberries," Lauren retorted with a grin.

"The turnpike," Eames added. "Atlantic City."

"I get it," I said. "Go. Let me know if you arrest any blueberries."

So Bernard and I went upstairs and found the Gorens already in the conference room.

In fact, everyone was there except for us.

"No suck-up coffee today?" Mary asked.

"It's like…five after eight," I argued lightly.

"Uh huh. The operative word being _after_," she replied. "But whatever. We've got bigger issues."

"What's going on?" Bernard asked.

Mary deferred to Bobby and Alex.

"We got a call last night," Alex began. "From a former detective whose informant called her with some interesting information."

"That relates to this case?"

"The informant stated that a man was showing photographs to people working the streets. He was trying to put names with faces. The informant ID'd two of them as me and Alex," Bobby said. "We arrested him several weeks back during the Tomlin case and he remembered us."

"Did he give you up?"

"No, but we've been doing this a long time. By now, he's probably run across someone who knows us and was willing to talk. And there were more pictures, so I think it's safe to assume these guys are out there looking for all of us."

"What did he do – take pictures that night outside of Anna's apartment?" Bernard asked in concern.

"It's very possible. Likely, in fact," Alex said. "If he'd seen us somewhere else, then he probably would be able to get our names without trolling the streets. I mean, if he knew we work out of 1PP…"

"Yeah, I'm with you," I said with a nod. "This guy's a cold fish. He had Anna dead in the backseat. His partner dead in the trunk. Another partner bleeding. And he's sitting there taking pictures of us as we arrive on the scene."

"Do you think that's why he didn't call? You think he's trying to get more information before he makes contact, so that he'll have a little more leverage?"

"Maybe," Bobby agreed. Then he nodded towards Alex and Mary and said, "The three of us are going to talk to the witness this morning. I think she's going to shed some light on this whole thing."

"You think she's going to talk to you?" Dunn asked.

"I think she's really spooked now," McInnis spoke up. "She didn't know about Derek and Anna getting killed."

"It'll work to our advantage," Alex said.

"And if it doesn't, then I'll just pull my gun on her," Mary added. McInnis cleared his throat and Mary shrugged and said, "Okay, _again_."

"You pulled your gun on her yesterday?"

"She didn't want to cough up the phone. And I'm tired of her lies."

"So where do you want us today?" I asked her.

"You and Bernard work on the Robert Smith / Derek Gilmore angle. Find out where their paths crossed and if they converged again recently," she stated.

Then she turned to the marshals and said, "And you three…take the cell phone to the tech and see what he can get from it, and then we need boots on the ground in Kew Gardens."

"Yes, ma'am."

"But stick together, okay? I don't want anyone to be an easy target."

TBC...


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: My apologies for the delay. I'm going to blame the incessant ringing of the phone.**

* * *

><p><strong>Alex POV<strong>

* * *

><p>After twenty minutes, I could perfectly understand Mary's response yesterday.<p>

Because I was ready to pull out my gun.

"I don't feel well," Christina whined for the fifth time.

She was stretched out on the sofa in the little sitting room of the modest safe house.

I sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of her, my elbows resting on my thighs as I leaned close in an attempt to convey an impression of support and camaraderie, as though she and I are on the same team.

Bobby paced the room, touching on various objects and undoubtedly listening intently, waiting for the ideal time to jump into the conversation.

Mary lingered in the doorway with her arms folded over her chest, and even without looking at her, I could feel her annoyance from across the room.

"Anna's dead," Mary said bluntly. "I don't imagine she feels all that great either."

"That's not my fault!"

"We're not saying that it is," I replied soothingly. "But Christina…you know more than you're telling, and you're putting everyone at risk."

"And if I talk, I'll be putting myself at risk."

"You're already at risk," Mary reminded her.

"Yeah, because you can't do your job."

"I can't do my job when you don't follow the guidelines," Mary fired back, and I could hear her footsteps as she quickly came towards the sofa, but I held up a hand, signaling for her to stay back.

"Going to the US Attorney was a brave and commendable thing to do," Bobby said quietly as he stood at the end of the couch, near the girl's feet. She shifted her gaze from me to him, looking up at him with open adoration.

"You think so?"

"I'm sure it was a scary choice to make," he said with a nod. "But what we need to know _now_ is what you know. Why is it so important for these guys to find you? And more specifically, _who's_ trying to find you?"

"I'm going to testify against Demachi."

"Right," I said encouragingly. "You think he's the one after you?"

"I don't know that anyone's after me. That's what you guys keep saying, but…"

"You think they killed Derek for the hell of it? And Anna?"

"I don't know why they killed them!"

"To find you," Mary said firmly. "Jeez, you can't possibly be that stupid. I mean, do you really think Anna has any ties to those people other than you?"

"Yes!" she yelled as she finally moved into a sitting position. "Yes, she does, because she was fucking Derek, okay?"

"Tell us something we don't know," I replied quietly, trying to bring down the emotion in the room.

She stopped giving Mary the death glare and instead shifted her focus to me.

"You _know_? So it's _true_?" she questioned, and then her eyes flooded with tears.

_Oh my God._

"You're the one who just yelled it at us," Mary pointed out. "Are you saying you were only guessing?"

She dropped her head into her hands and let out a shaky breath.

"Derek told me that Anna seduced him, but I wasn't sure if I could believe him."

I caught Bobby's eye, and he gave me a questioning look. I was with him on that one.

It wasn't usually the guy who came clean about that kind of thing.

And I wasn't exactly filled with a sense of trust for anything Christina might have to say.

"Why would he lie about something like that?"

"Because. Derek wanted me to bring him into the program."

"He _what_?" Mary asked. "Then why didn't you bring him in? I mean, if you love him so much that you were willing to break protocol…"

"I don't love him. And if he'd come with me…you just don't understand."

"Then help us understand, Christina," Bobby said.

"I really…I just need…"

"You might want to back up," Mary said, patting my shoulder with her hand. I moved out of the way just as Christina slapped her hand over her mouth and then ran for the bathroom.

"Another migraine?" I asked.

"Or a clever way to avoid questioning," Mary said in annoyance. "Okay, so what've we got here and how does any of it help us?"

"Derek tells her about him and Anna because he wants her to be jealous enough to let him join her," I said. "Which is about the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

"Dumb for who?" Bobby said as he eased closer to us so that the three of us could put our heads together while Christina was losing her breakfast. "Derek? Anna?"

"Both. What did she stand to gain from it?"

"Maybe she was going for jealousy, too," I suggested.

Bobby nodded, and said, "Christina was hung up on Derek, and then Anna proves how easy it was to get him to stray…"

"Leaving Christina to turn to Anna."

"The only inkling we've got that the two of them were romantically involved is what Cutter told us," Mary pointed out.

"Which is what Anna told him. So maybe she was making it up."

"But why? Just to stall sleeping with him? He doesn't seem like the type to put on a full-court press to me. It doesn't make sense."

"None of it makes sense because she's lying her ass off," Mary grumbled.

"Okay, wait," Bobby said suddenly, and then he took a lap around the couch and I could practically see his brain putting the pieces together.

And maybe it's inappropriate of me, but I can't help but feel turned on when he gets like this.

The man's a genius, and smart is most definitely sexy.

Of course, he could be a complete moron and he'd still look sexy, physically-speaking, but the fact of the matter is that he's the total package.

And he's all mine.

And I am so utterly off topic…

"That's it," he said at last.

"You skipped the connecting words, Bobby. Back up," Mary said, then she glanced past me towards the bathroom where we heard the water start running.

"Think about this," he said as he once again moved to stand next to us. "Christina obviously knows what kind of man Demachi is. She's planning to testify against him, something worthy of putting him away for life and yet she said she doesn't believe anyone is trying to kill her. She's blaming Derek's connection for the fact that he and Anna were killed."

"She's in denial," Mary reasoned.

"And she lies every time she opens her mouth," I added.

"Uh huh," he agreed. "But does she look all that scared to you?"

"No, she just looks sick."

"Right. And we also know that Derek has ties to the gang. He knew Robert Smith from before. It can't be a coincidence."

"Where are you going with this?"

"Well, I only have part of it. But I think Derek was sent to Anna to try to smoke out Christina. Maybe he was tasked with finding her, and when he couldn't, they killed him."

"But he _did_ give them Anna, maybe in a last ditch effort to save himself, but so she was next," I finished.

"Exactly."

"But how did he know about her to begin with? You think someone followed us when we made the first transfer?"

"I thought that at first, but knowing that Christina and Derek were in contact, now I think she just told him. Maybe she was the one playing the jealousy card, telling him that Anna hit on her."

"Great, so we have a giant sex scandal but nobody looks good for the murders," Mary complained. "How did this turn into such a colossal disaster?"

"Hey!" I called out to Christina. "How long did you and Derek date?"

"A couple of months," was the weak response.

"A couple of months," Bobby repeated. Then he turned towards the bathroom as she came to stand in the doorway. "Who were you dating before him?"

"Why?"

"I'm just asking."

"It's none of your business."

"Every tiny detail of your entire life is my business right now, so answer the question," Mary said sharply.

"Look," she retorted, suddenly developing an attitude as she flounced across the room and sat down on the couch. "You want to know what I'm testifying about? Fine. Demachi and Rama are in a power struggle. They both want to take over when the old man bites it, so in order to impress him, they've both been hard at it lately. Guns, drugs, hookers, babies…you name it, they're selling it. And anyone who gets in their way gets whacked."

"And your testimony only effects Demachi? If you know about both of them, then why are you only testifying against the one?"

"I've seen it first hand from Demachi. I've only heard about Rama."

"How did you see it first hand?" Bobby asked carefully. "How does a girl like you end up in the position to be a witness to such crimes?"

"Why does that matter?"

"Because," Mary said through gritted teeth. "Someone's trying to kill you. Or did you think we're making such a fuss over you because we like watching you puke your guts out?"

"I'm guessing that it's not just _some_one, right?" Bobby said to Christina. "If you have personal knowledge of specific crimes committed by Demachi, then he's ordered it, right? And you should know who he would trust to handle such an important task. I mean, if you go through with this, then he's finished. "

"If you're worried about being prosecuted as an accessory, I'm sure the US Attorney has spoken with you about immunity. We don't go after our witnesses."

"I'm not worried about that."

"So give us names. Help us know who we're looking for. It'll make it a hell of a lot easier to find them."

"I don't know," she said pointedly.

"Okay, then tell us more about Derek," Bobby said, quickly shifting the topic to keep her off balance.

"What about him?"

"You dated him for a couple of months. Did you tell him what you were getting ready to do? With the US Attorney?"

"Right after I did it, yes."

"Not sooner?"

"No. I didn't want him to try to talk me out of it."

"Why would he?"

"You mean why would he want me to stay in New York instead of having to change my name and move to some bumfuck town halfway across the country? I have no idea."

"Nice attitude, Christina. Keep it up."

The girl flashed a smart aleck smile at Mary and then turned her attention to me.

"I agreed to go into Witsec and Anna got me set up in a hotel that first night. She stayed with me, and we talked…she was really sweet."

"So you used her," I said.

"I didn't."

"You quizzed her on the program so that you could find out the best way to keep in contact with someone from home without getting caught," I accused. "And then you dropped her name to Derek for some reason."

"Oh, so you want to blame me for her death."

"You admitted that he has ties to the very gang you'll be testifying against. Why on earth would you trust him?"

"Unless," Bobby said as he came to stand in front of her. "Unless you're still holding out on us."

"Okay, fine," she pouted. "God, you guys are relentless. Okay, so I found out that Derek was just sent to check up on me. He dated me for two goddamn months just to see if I was going to keep quiet about what I knew. He didn't love me. It was just a job for him. But he had me fooled, so I guess he was pretty good at it. Anyway, when I found out what he was up to, that's when I got scared, and I called the US Attorney. I went into Witsec that same day, and I called Derek and told him about it. He was furious at first, but then he kept saying how much he loved me and that he couldn't live without me. That's why I talked to Anna, and I got her to tell me about some of the times witnesses managed to pull one over on their assigned marshal."

Mary closed her eyes and shook her head, but Christina continued with her rant.

"Anyway, he said he wanted to come with me. That he missed me and he was desperate to find me."

"And that didn't clue you in? You knew he was a spy."

"I didn't tell him. I told him that after everything was over, maybe we could try to start over somewhere together, but until then, I needed to be by myself, and he said I'd never live that long, and I said…I said…that Anna would never let anything happen to me."

"And then?"

"Last Friday, she called me. She said that Derek had come by her place. And he'd…forced himself on her, trying to get her to tell where I was. He just wanted the name of the city."

"Wait, he raped her?"

"That's what she said. She was upset. When she called, she was out on a date with some other guy, because she was trying to pretend like nothing had happened. She couldn't report it, because then she'd get in trouble for the violations she'd allowed, and…she felt trapped. I called Derek because I didn't really believe her at the time, and he denied it."

"Of course he did," Mary said in disgust.

"He said that he went to talk to her and she seduced him. And then he begged my forgiveness, and pleaded with me to tell him where I was because he wanted to come and be with me."

"But you didn't."

"No."

"He was killed the next day," Mary said. "And Anna the day after that. He wasn't trying to find out for himself. He was still reporting back."

"I get that," she admitted.

"So knowing all of this…knowing that Derek was spying for Demachi and that you've been putting yourself and everyone around you at risk…why have you still been so reluctant to talk? And why don't you believe that your life is in danger?" I asked her incredulously.

She sat back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling for a long minute and then she finally met my gaze, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see Bobby nodding his head as though he knew exactly what she was getting ready to say.

And knowing him, he probably did, but she still caught me by surprise.

"Because I'm pregnant. And Demachi's the father. He doesn't want to kill me. He wants to bring me back to him so that he can have our baby."

TBC...


	30. Chapter 30

**Ross POV**

* * *

><p>"Is she okay?"<p>

"She's fine."

"But…"

"She's fine."

"Dad…I'm not a little kid. You can't expect me to believe everything you say just because _you_ say it. I've got eyes."

I fell silent for a moment as I watched Liz walk inside the morgue.

Jeremy had a point.

She's been abnormally quiet lately.

I figured that she was lost in her past, but I was trying to stay supportive about it, not pushing for too much information.

"_So Eames and Hayes were a good choice_?" I asked her last night, after we got home from Steve-O's.

She was more than a little intoxicated, but she also seemed a lot more relaxed, so if it took a few more glasses of bourbon than usual to get here there, then so be it.

And I'd liked the fact that Lauren had suggested she put the case out of her mind for tonight, and then Bernard had cajoled her into smiling.

We've got some really good friends.

"_Well, they didn't put me in handcuffs when I told them about the money_," she said with a smirk. "_So I guess that's a good thing_."

"_Did you expect them to?"_

"_I stole a hundred thousand dollars, Danny. Do you realize how much money that is?"_

And I know she was being serious, but she was slightly slurring her words and I found her redundancy a little amusing.

"_Um…it's a hundred thousand_?"

"_Exactly,_" she said, not picking up on my tease. "_And I stole it."_

"_It was given to you."_

"_By a convicted drug dealer."_

"_You don't know that for sure, do you?"_

"_What, you think I've got some anonymous benefactor who slipped me a check in the same amount as what the DEA was looking for? Someone who loves me?"_

"_Who loves you?"_

"_Lov__ed __me,"_ she corrected, suddenly looking at me guiltily. "_Loved__. I…didn't I tell you that part?"_

She held my gaze as she sat in the chair, with one shoe off and one shoe on, and she looked like she was bracing for backlash.

Like I might yell at her for…for _what_?

Because she was in love with someone before me?

This whole thing was really throwing her for a loop.

"_No, but that's okay_," I said. I knelt down in front of her and untied her shoe, taking it off and setting it next to the other one before slipping off her socks.

"_Oh, well…it's…the note I got…that was in with the…um…you know, the check."_

"_Liz…let it go,"_ I said gently, sliding my hands along her thighs as I moved between her legs.

"_But…"_

"_Let it go," _I repeated, and then I kissed her, and I meant for it to be something comforting rather than passionate, but I couldn't help myself.

The next thing I knew, I was reaching for the string on her pants.

It was tied in a bow, and my hands faltered.

"_What?_" she asked as she kissed along my jaw.

"_Your string…there's no…"_

"_I didn't knot it,"_ she said, pulling back from me and looking down in surprise. "_I guess I've been…distracted."_

I couldn't decide if she was disturbed by her oversight, but before I could ask, she said, "_That just makes it easier on you then, doesn't it?"_

She pulled the end of the string and then eased away from me, getting up from the chair, and then she let her pants fall to the floor.

I was still on my knees next to the chair, and she looked at me curiously and said, "_So did the lack of challenge kill the mood?"_

"_You think you're not a challenge?"_ I asked, smiling as I got to my feet. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to me.

"_You're right. I guess I am. I mean, we've been married less than a year, and I was accused of murdering my ex-husband, and then I __**did**__ kill a guy and nearly had a nervous breakdown, and now you find out that I'm a thief who used to be in love with a drug dealer."_

She relaxed her hold on me, but I didn't let go. I hugged her tightly until her arms went around me again.

"_You want me to start listing out my faults and everything that I've done wrong in my life?"_ I asked her. "_Because I will. But first we'd better get comfortable. Maybe get a snack or something. We're going to be here awhile."_

She snorted out a laugh and then leaned her head back, bringing her eyes to mine.

"_A snack?"_

"_I'm just saying…"_

"_Danny…"_

"_And for the record,"_ I interrupted. "_You're not a thief, and as for your old boyfriend…well, we can't help who we fall in love with, can we?"_

"_I'm lucky we can't. I think you would've put on the brakes pretty quickly."_

"_You think I would've stopped myself from loving you? Are you crazy?"_

She shrugged and said, "_Maybe. It would've made your life a lot easier."_

I moved my hands up to her face, running my thumbs over her cheeks and I asked her, "_Where's my confident Liz? The one who unequivocally informed me that she could do better than me."_

"_I didn't mean that,"_ she said quietly, still serious despite my teasing. "_I was just angry. And as for my confidence…I don't know. Maybe Beth Chambers stole it."_

"_Then Liz Rodgers needs to steal it back. Nothing from your past can hurt you. And absolutely nothing is going to change how I feel about you. I don't care if you snorted cocaine through a stolen hundred dollar bill, off the ass of an underage male stripper, live on YouTube…"_

And finally, she laughed. A real laugh, not just a quick chortle. And it felt so good to stand there and hold her while she made fun of my assertion.

"_Cocaine off a stripper's ass? I didn't __**do**__ drugs, Danny. I just lived with somebody who sold them. And YouTube? You know that wasn't around back then, right?"_

"_But you get my point,"_ I replied as her laughter died down.

"_Yeah,"_ she said with a nod. "_I do."_

"_Good. So…"_

"_So get out of those clothes. You've got work to do."_

She seemed slightly better this morning.

And just before we left the house, I stopped her by the door, reaching for the waistband of her pants.

"_What are you doing?"_ she asked.

"_Just checking something."_

The knot.

It was back.

And as odd as it had seemed to me that she does it in the first place, I was really glad to find that she was doing it once again.

Today was going to be about finding more answers for her, but hopefully it would also be about healing and closure.

She's been beating herself up too much.

It needs to stop.

I tore my gaze away from the now-empty sidewalk and pulled the car away from the curb, heading for 1PP.

"So how'd it go yesterday?" I asked Jeremy, blatantly changing the subject.

"Boring as hell."

"Jeremy…"

"I'm sorry, but it was. I never even made it out of personnel. The secretary down there…what's her name? Suzie? Cindy? Something like that. Anyway, as soon as she finished up my paperwork, she put me to work helping her file! I mean, come on, Dad. I didn't ask to work at the NYPD so that I could be a file clerk."

"I believe you offered to get coffee and empty the trash," I reminded him as I struggled to keep from smirking.

"Yeah, but…_up_stairs. On the eleventh floor. Not in Human Resources."

"Well, I suggest that for the rest of the summer, you try to avoid _Shirley, _or she'll have you alphabetizing the phone messages."

"That's not going to happen. I've got my ID now. I'm not going anywhere but straight to the elevator, and then up to Major Case."

"And then you'll go wherever anyone needs you to go, right? You can't be a snobbish gopher."

He finally laughed and then shifted in his seat so that he was facing me and he said, "So…Liz. Did you honestly think your little misdirection would make me forget about her?"

"No," I admitted.

"Okay, so…that phone call the other night. It wasn't…I mean, she's not…"

"Liz and I are fine," I said firmly. "She's not your mother."

"I know that," he said quickly. "But I know what a complete moron you were a couple of years ago, and I just want to make sure you're not doing it again."

"Thank you," I said, glancing over at him while I decided whether or not I should be offended.

I mean, he had a point.

I _was_ a complete moron.

And I also know how much he loves Liz, so it's nice to see him trying to stand up for her.

"You're not a moron _now_," he amended. Then he started chuckling and he added, "Or at least, I don't think so."

"What's going on has nothing to do with our relationship," I told him. "She's having a little trouble dealing with something from her past, something from when she was about your age."

"Oh. Huh. I guess I can see how that might happen. I mean, what if twenty years from now someone starts digging into what happened to me at JHU, right? Same kind of thing?"

"Essentially, yes. So, a word to the wise, Jeremy. Just be upfront about your life with the people you love."

"Because nothing ever really goes away," he finished with a nod. "Yeah, I get it. So was she? Upfront about it, I mean. Did she tell you?"

"Not beforehand, but now, yes."

"And she's okay? Because I don't think she said one smartass thing to me this morning, and that's just not like her, and I hate thinking about her being upset or…"

"I think she's more preoccupied than upset."

"She's not in trouble with the law or anything, is she?"

"No, but I put a couple of people on it to help her sort through the mess. Give it a couple of days."

"You're using your detectives for a personal situation?"

"I did with you," I reminded him.

"Yeah, but I was facing charges. She's not, right? She's not in that kind of trouble, is she?"

Sometimes I think the kid is too damn smart for his own good.

Or maybe I just forget that he's not twelve anymore.

"Officially, she's received two harassing phone calls. My detectives are looking into it."

"Who's working on it? Bobby and Alex?"

"No. They're in the middle of something else. Eames and Hayes are taking care of it."

"Hayes…she's the hot one."

Okay, so maybe _that's_ why I forget that he's not twelve.

"She's the hot one who's at least fifteen years too old for you, not to mention the fact that she's dating Bernard, so if you like your face like it is, I suggest that you keep your observations to yourself. At least about Detective Hayes, anyway."

"Geez, Dad, relax," he stated with a grin. "I didn't say I want to _date_ her. I just like looking at her."

"Well, don't look. Take out trash. Get coffee. Pull things off the fax machine. Make yourself useful."

"I will," he promised, suddenly serious again. "Are you going to see Liz for lunch?"

"If I can."

"If you can't, let me know. Maybe I'll take something over there and eat with her."

And just like that, he went from being a typical nineteen-year-old, testosterone-filled guy to being a caring, adoring stepson.

I parked in the garage and we went up in the elevator, heading for the eleventh floor. I figured I'd take a minute to introduce him around before going on up to my office.

That way maybe I could check on the progress of Eames and Hayes, too.

Liz had mentioned that they'd be going to New Jersey today, but I was wondering if they were holding anything back from her…maybe a theory that they wanted to flesh out before revealing it.

But upstairs, Eames and Hayes were nowhere in sight.

In fact, the office was fairly sparsely populated.

"Where is everyone?" I asked Bernard, who was one of the few detectives actually at his desk.

He glanced up at me and then looked around.

"Do you want to be more specific? Or should I just give you the full rundown?"

"Start at the top."

"The Gorens went with Mary to…handle something. Mike and Carolyn are back out on the island. He called a few minutes ago and was bitching about having to deal with the ME out there, saying how he wished they could use Liz instead. The other marshals went out to…somewhere. Eames and Hayes are probably halfway to Jersey. Jeffries and Bond said something about going to pick up a suspect in that Fowler murder. Sessions and Barkowski…"

"Okay, that's good," I interrupted.

I hadn't actually expected him to know the whereabouts of everyone, but I was duly impressed. This office really does seem to run itself, and me taking on the dual responsibilities of captain and chief was working out better than I'd hoped.

_Because my detectives are the best_, I reminded myself.

"Oh, and Lupo is getting coffee," Bernard added as he looked pointedly at Jeremy. "It's a shame we have to do that ourselves, you know."

Jeremy flashed him a grin and said, "I'm on it," and then he hurried down the hall in the direction of the break room.

"Use him and abuse him," I told Bernard.

"No problem, Chief," he replied with a smile. "You doing okay?"

"Sure, why?" I asked suspiciously.

"Because you look like you didn't sleep last night."

"Oh."

"You think Lauren talked to me about whatever's going on with Liz?" he asked warily.

"No, I…no."

"Good, because you know we don't play that way."

"I know," I said on a sigh. "Sorry. I'm just…you're right. I didn't sleep."

Because after I spent an enjoyable amount of time making love to my wife, I'd spent the next however many hours staring at the ceiling. I was starting to think I needed to put something creative and artsy up there…something to look at other than the swirled patterns of off-white paint.

Bernard nodded in understanding and said, "Hang in there, Chief. You've got a couple of good detectives sorting it out."

"I know," I said again. Then I checked my watch and said, "Hey, I need to get into the office, so just tell Jeremy I'll call him later."

I started to walk away and then I stopped and asked, "Bernard, if Hayes were to work in Major Case…would that be a problem for the two of you?"

"I can't see how. She's been here more than not since we got together."

"True. What about Eames? You think he and Alex will butt heads?"

"Definitely," he said with a grin. "But so do she and Logan and it works out just fine. You thinking about bringing them in on a more permanent basis?"

"It's a thought. Keep it under your hat for now, okay?"

He said that he would, so I continued on towards the elevator, mulling over the idea of offering Eames and Hayes the transfer.

I might catch a little bit of heat for it.

They certainly don't have any kind of seniority.

But with the department as it is, virtually running itself, I need to have the right kind of detectives working the desks.

I need people I can trust to do the job without big brother watching. Not only that, but I need people who work well with others and keep track of the big picture.

It has to be a team effort, and some detectives have trouble being part of a team. The ones I have now are excellent, but I could use a couple more.

I got off the elevator and went into my office, closing the door behind me, and then I sat down at my desk.

"Chief, there's a call for you on line one," my secretary's voice informed me through the intercom.

"Who is it?"

"She didn't give me her name, but she says she's a friend of your wife."

"Shit," I muttered as I pulled out my cell phone. I opened the recording app and then set it down on the desk as I answered the phone on speaker.

"Chief Ross."

"The Chief of Detectives. That's impressive."

"Impressive to whom?"

"So you're suspicious and not surprised. Your wife must have told you that I called her on Monday."

"She only said that she received some harassing calls."

"Harassing?"

"A caller who won't reveal her name? That's fairly harassing."

"It won't help you to learn my name. I'm more curious to hear if _she_ admitted _her_ name. Elizabeth Chambers. And even more importantly, has she confessed to you what she did?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Okay, so that's a no. Interesting. I bet a man in your position pulls down a nice paycheck, huh? Although, probably not like what a doctor makes, but still…"

"Is there a point to this call?" I asked in annoyance.

"I just want you to know that she can't ignore her past forever. Tell her that the next time I call…"

"There's not going to be a next time," I interrupted. "You need to leave her alone."

"Or what?" she replied on a laugh. "You'll sic the NYPD on me? I wonder how _that_'ll play in the press. The chief using departmental resources for personal gain. I believe you've already been accused of that, haven't you? A repeat allegation could be devastating."

"Blackmailing the Chief of Detectives can be devastating, too," I fired back.

"Who said anything about blackmail?" she asked innocently. "We're just having a little chat."

"No, we _were_ having a chat. And now we're not."

I hung up the phone and then clicked _stop_ on my recorder.

I saved the file and then used my cell to call Hayes.

"What's up, Chief?" she answered pleasantly.

"I just got a call."

"The same kind of thing?" she asked, instantly all business. "On your cell or in the office?"

"In the office. I recorded it."

"Good. Did he ask for anything in particular?"

"It was a woman. She touched on what kind of money Liz and I make, and then she said something about how Liz can't ignore her past forever."

I waited patiently while Hayes conveyed the news to Eames, but on the inside, my blood was boiling.

Was this payback on me for being such an asshole for so many years?

Was my bad karma rubbing off on Liz?

Because I don't care about the fact that she used to date a small-time dealer, or that she used some banger's money to put herself through school.

Hell, better it be used for her to get an education than to buy drugs that would then be resold to school kids, right?

And yeah, maybe that's justification, but it's _good_ justification.

And she'd repaid her debt, both by virtue of her profession and in the form of a one hundred thousand dollar donation.

That's right.

My Liz saved every penny of alimony that Marcus paid her over the years and she donated it to a drug rehab facility in Washington Heights.

"Send the recording to my phone, okay?" Hayes said when she came back on the line. "We're only halfway to Montague right now, but we'd like to hear the conversation and maybe we can use it to stir things up a little with Ricky."

"You think he's behind it?"

"Honestly? We have no idea yet. But give us a couple of hours and hopefully we'll have something more."

TBC...


	31. Chapter 31

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

><p>"I'm sensing a pattern here."<p>

"You think?"

"Yeah, and I'm also suddenly in the mood for leek and potato soup."

I chuckled at Mike, shaking my head as I finished skimming through the papers from the ME.

"Devlin Byrne," I read aloud. "And Brandon Flynn."

"So we _aren't_ dealing with the Italians," he mused. "We're dealing with the Irish. Which means what? Those mopes we came across were just coincidentally living crime-free next door?"

"In a house that smelled like decomp?" I reminded him.

"Well, yeah, there is that. Okay, so Byrne and Flynn, along with Michael Connolly, James O'Farrell, and Kelly Duffy. Each had two taps to the head."

"And then we've got Greg Umsted, with two to the chest _and_ two to the head."

"Which means he was killed out of necessity and then the half-ass attempt was made to put the mafia signature on it," he said. Then he rolled his eyes and looked at me and added, "I guess we weren't supposed to notice those two holes in the chest."

"Yeah, well with Dr. Grayson on the job, it wasn't such a far-fetched idea. You think we can get approval to transport all six bodies into Manhattan?"

"Probably, but let's gut it out with this yo-yo. Liz has enough on her plate without having us throw in six more corpses just because we're spoiled by her ability to be thorough."

"Good point. What _is_ going on with her?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. But I'm starting to feel a little like an outcast, aren't you?"

"You mean because we're stuck on the island?"

"That, Liz, Mary's case…"

"True, but we've got plenty going on, too. We need to take care of this case so that we can get up to Boston and hear what O'Connor has to say."

"Uh huh," he agreed thoughtfully.

Last night, we'd talked about it while we sat out on our balcony.

"_You think my father's a mobster?"_

"_It's possible. Although don't they usually have better taste in women?" _

"_You're right,_" he said, pulling me closer to him.

We were sitting together in a deck chair, and I was nestled between his legs with the back of my head against his chest. His hands fiddled with the hem of my blouse, sporadically sliding beneath to lightly tease my skin.

"_No, I'm not. And I shouldn't joke about that. She was a beautiful woman_," I said, because despite my hatred for the woman, I have to admit that she was pretty back in the day.

"_With an ugly soul_," he amended.

"_Yes. But men don't usually sleep with a woman for her soul, now do they?"_

"_I sleep with you for yours,_" he said, his breath tickling my ear.

"_Somehow I don't think it's my soul that attracted you. Knowing you, I'd guess it was probably my ass."_

He laughed quietly, a deep rumbling sound that I could almost feel more than hear, and he said, "_You got me there. It was definitely your ass."_

"_I had a feeling_," I replied smugly.

He slid his hand further beneath my shirt, moving it upwards until his fingertips grazed across the satin fabric of my bra.

"_Of course, you have other…assets, too_," he said.

"_Uh huh,"_ I agreed, shifting against him purposefully so that my backside was rubbing up against the hardness of him.

The contact brought a heavy sigh from him and his hands began exploring with more purpose.

I tilted my head back so that I could look up at him, ready to tease him for his confessions of shallowness and superficiality, but before I could say anything, he brought his lips to mine, kissing me with unexpected intensity.

He pushed his hips against me, sending a series of sparking sensations through me that filled me with urgency.

It never ceases to amaze me how I can go so quickly from mild interest to complete and utter desperation.

I mean, I'm a cerebral kind of woman.

I enjoy the banter of good conversation with an intelligent companion.

And despite his assertion to the contrary, Mike is extremely intelligent.

Usually it's his mind that turns me on.

Okay, so that's not entirely true. I mean, come on. The man is sexy as hell, so of course I can't help but get worked up sometimes just from looking at him.

But still, our dialogue _does_ usually play a factor in our foreplay.

So it catches me off guard when, at times like this, it's not really anything that he said, but more the mere physical closeness and the fact that I can literally _feel_ just how much he loves me.

And I don't mean like _that_.

I mean the way he kisses me, and the touch of his hands.

It makes me feel so…visceral.

He pulled his hands from beneath my blouse and started working on the buttons as he continued kissing me with unbridled fervor, and then as he undid the last button, he broke off the kiss and instead just looked at me intently as his hands held the fabric closed.

"_It's not about what you look like_," he said. "_I'm not going to lie and say I don't love your ass, but Carolyn…it's you. And I don't know, maybe this whole daddy-search is a stupid idea because you know what? I don't need anyone but you."_

And he seemed to be a little choked up and I started to say something, to reassure him about the fact that he'll always have me because I'm damn sure not going anywhere, but then he continued, saying, _"I don't want you to think that I feel like something's missing in my life. That's not why I want to do this, because I can't imagine my life ever being any better than it is with you. But I just…I have to know. I can't have the burning question in my mind and then just ignore it."_

"_Of course not."_

"_So you understand?" _he asked earnestly, that little boy expression once again on his face.

He's so vulnerable about things like this, about his family and his background. And it's almost like he still expects that at any minute everything good in his life is going to disappear.

Like he thinks he deserves for that to happen.

It breaks my heart.

And I'll admit it.

I'm a lapsed Catholic.

I haven't been to confession in so long that I'd have to book the priest for a solid week in order for him to hear all of my sins.

But that doesn't mean I haven't prayed.

And lately, I've been praying that Johnny's search finds a good, honest man.

Maybe someone who didn't realize he even has a son.

Someone who will be proud of Mike.

Because as much as it's helped him to meet John, finding a _father_ who isn't a piece of crap will have to go a long way towards showing him that he's worthy of everything he has.

Of course, it could go the other way.

The man could be a first-class loser.

Or we could find out that John Logan really _is_ his father.

But like I said, I've been praying…

"_I understand perfectly. And tomorrow night, we'll go up to Boston. We'll meet with Johnny and see what he's uncovered, and then we'll go drink a pint with O'Connor."_

_"And if my father's an Irish mobster?"_

_"Then we'll always be safe when we travel to Boston," _I said casually._ "Besides, O'Connor might want to talk to you about something completely different. I mean, what are the odds that he knows anything? Because if he does, then why didn't he say something last fall?"_

_"That's true," _he replied thoughtfully_. "And…no matter what we find…"_

He trailed off and looked at me for a moment before dropping his eyes to where his fingers were still toying with the edge of my blouse.

"_You've always got me and my perfect ass_," I finished firmly. "_So stop worrying, okay? I don't care if you were sired by the devil himself. You're the man I love. End of story."_

He fought with a smile for a moment and then he looked up at me and said, "_Perfect ass? I don't think I ever called it perfect."_

_"Sure you did."_

_"Uh uh. Phenomenal, maybe. Sublime."_

_"My ass is inspirational?" _I said dubiously as I started laughing.

"_It inspires me to do all kinds of things_," he replied as he finally took off my blouse. "_But the jury's still out on perfect. I think I need to do a thorough evaluation."_

_"Huh,_" I said as I got up from the chair. "_Okay. Evaluate."_

So I stood a few feet away from him and then I turned around, putting my back to him as I slowly unhooked my pants.

This type of seductive play isn't usually my nature, but I gained a little confidence when I heard him let out a slow breath, so after letting my slacks fall to the deck, I grabbed onto the sides of my underwear and then worked them down my legs, bit by bit.

By the time they hit the floor, Mike was behind me.

"_Definitely perfect_," he growled as he took my hands in his and then, keeping my back to him, he walked us over to the railing. He set my hands on the rail and said, "_Don't move."_

Normally with a command like that, my first response is to move.

What can I say?

I don't take orders well.

But he had me literally shaking in anticipation, so I stood as still as I could, with my hands gripping the rail, and then suddenly he was right behind me again, and I could feel the heat of his skin against mine and the light, teasing touch of his hands as they roamed across my skin and the gentle caress of his lips as they grazed along my shoulders and it didn't take anything more than the feel of him pushing into me with passionate confidence to send me over the edge.

Fortunately, he was able to last longer than me.

A lot longer.

And I gripped the rail of our balcony so hard that I probably left indentations in the wood.

But that's fine.

Maybe tonight I'll see if I can make those indentations a little deeper.

"So what's our next step?" Mike asked me, pulling me from my pleasant walk down memory lane.

"Well…um…I guess we need to pull the jackets on our vics and find out what the hell they were in to. We need to see how they might relate to a guy like Greg Umsted, our short-fused guy with no ties to the mob."

"Well, no ties other than the fact that he lived next door to a capo. Maybe he saw something he shouldn't have."

"You mean like Berto and Louie burying bodies on his land?" I suggested wryly. "Yeah, maybe so."

"Maybe that's exactly it," he replied. "Maybe that's why Tony clammed up when I got the call from O'Connor."

"You think the Italians are whacking the Irish?"

"Territory wars aren't anything new. And that would explain their reaction. Otherwise why the hell would they care if I was talking to him?"

"So our theory is that Tony was trying to take over Irish territory and when he met with resistance, he offed them? Why would he bury them in Umsted's yard?"

"I don't think Umsted was a choir boy. Maybe they paid him to look the other way. Tony probably figured it was the perfect place to hide bodies."

"Except he didn't know that Umsted was a hothead whose adversary would get popped, thus leading the police right to the private graveyard."

"Hey, I've heard crazier ideas," he said with a shrug.

"Where? Not from me," I teased.

"You've had plenty of crazy ideas," he insisted. "The worst one being to marry me."

"Ha ha. That was actually my best idea."

"No, you asking me to evaluate your assets last night…that was a pretty damn good idea."

"It was, wasn't it?" I asked with a smile. "I was just thinking about that."

"You were?"

"Uh huh. I'm thinking that maybe you need to do a more thorough examination. Maybe tonight."

"It's almost lunch time," he countered, waggling his eyebrows as he flashed me a devastating smile.

"We've got a lot of work to do," I reminded him with no small amount of regret.

"Yeah, I know," he said on a sigh. "Rain check. For now, let's call over to 1PP and have the jackets pulled while we're making the notifications. Do we have addresses?"

"None of them are from the island," I remarked as I pulled out the sheet that listed each person's home address. I read it and then said in surprise, "Hell's Kitchen. All of them."

"My theory doesn't sound so crazy after all, does it?" he said with a grin. "It looks like our boy Tony was squeezing some Westies."

TBC...


	32. Chapter 32

**Connie POV**

* * *

><p>"Mr. Flowers wants to know when he can expect a visitor."<p>

I gripped the phone more tightly in my hand, wishing I was holding on to the slimy lawyer's throat rather than the relatively innocent piece of equipment, and then I replied, "I don't know. Maybe he should call the psychic hotline and see if they can clue him in."

"Ms. Rubirosa," he said with heavy condescension.

I wanted to interrupt him with the correction of _Mrs. Lupo_, but I didn't.

I don't want him knowing anything about my personal life.

"There's no need for childish games," he continued.

"I don't play games," I retorted. "And I'm done trying to make a deal. It's off the table. Your client can take his chances with a jury."

"Your complainant really wants to get on the stand and tell her story?"

"That's not your concern."

"I've made it my concern. And _if_ you manage to get in the DNA sample, which you won't, but if you do, I'm ready for Ms. Hayes."

"Detective Hayes," I corrected.

"Whatever. She's going to look like just another cheap party girl when I get through with her. Hell, I bet she probably came on to my client. You've seen him, right? He's a good-looking man. Wait until I dress him up in a three-piece suit and sit him next to me at the table. You better pray you don't have any women on the jury. Or for that matter, any men either because when they see _Detective_ Hayes and I start talking about all of the men she slept with before her path crossed with my client's, every man in the room is going to sympathize with Bill, because at some point they all will have run across a no-count dick-tease like her."

I was flooded with anger and nausea combined with a sense of helplessness because as outrageous as his declaration seemed to be, I've also seen it happen. And it doesn't matter whether or not he's telling the truth.

Ten years ago…Lauren would've been twenty-five. Even if she didn't become sexually active until college, that still means seven years of sexual partners for him to dig up.

If I made a conservative guess of two each year, that would mean fourteen men.

"So which is it, Mr. Schmenke?" I retorted, forcing myself to keep my focus on the current conversation rather than potential future worries. "The DNA result is bogus? Or is your claim that it wasn't rape? You're going to give a judge whiplash going back and forth like that."

"I can change my defense," he replied easily. "If my motion gets denied, then our claim will be that my client was seduced into…"

"You're really going to try to say that she asked for it?" I interrupted, my voice jumping up an octave. "That she _asked_ to have her face smashed into a brick wall? That she _wanted_ cracked ribs? That she…"

I trailed off when I realized that I was causing a scene.

Every person within a fifty-yard radius was looking at me, including Mike, who was standing in his office doorway.

He waved me over to him, so I quickly crossed the room and went inside his office, and then he closed the door behind me.

"Don't forget I have the hospital report, you no-morals little weasel," I bit out. "You know, that place where she spent two days after this so-called consensual sex, so don't pull that shit on me in court unless you want to look like the biggest moron in New York."

"Settle down, Counselor," he replied. "All I'm trying to say is that ten years is a long time, and facts can be distorted, possibly even skewed. And maybe no one believes me. So what? She'll still have to sit there and listen to it…she'll still have to answer every one of my questions. So I'm asking you…why put her through _my_ version of what happened when you can just put her on a train to Frackville and then this whole thing will be behind us?"

"Because unlike your client, I'm not going to put a gun to her head and force her to do something she doesn't want to do," I fired back. "I hope you paid your New York Bar dues, Mr. Schmenke, because I can't wait to kick your ass in court."

I disconnected the call with such vigor that it's a wonder I didn't crack the touch screen.

I stared at the phone for a moment longer and then shoved it viciously into my pocket.

"Um…I think maybe you need to fill me in on this case," Mike said cautiously.

"I'm sorry," I said as I worked hard to get my pulse under control.

What is Schmenke's problem?

Why is he so hell-bent on getting Flowers what he wants?

And why is Flowers so dead-set on seeing Lauren?

"For what? Being passionate about a case?"

"For…" I paused and looked through his office windows, happy to see that everyone had gone back to work. "Well, for creating a brief disturbance. I let my temper get the best of me."

"Don't apologize," he said, looking at me with concern. "Can I help?"

"It's Lauren's case," I admitted.

"Oh, so it's personal. Yeah, I thought I recognized the lawyer's name," he said with a nod. "So where are you with that?"

"I called him to pull the deal. She and Bernard are going to visit Flowers tonight, but she wanted it to be on her terms, not his. In a couple of days, I'll make them another offer."

"That's ballsy. And his strategy is to play it out like she was into it?"

"Yeah. Because she'd be into getting the crap beat out of her and having a gun held so hard against her head that she was bruised, not to mention the damage that he did to her…internally," I finished vaguely.

Of course, Mike knows about the case, and Lauren knows that he knows, but I still feel a little guilty talking about it so openly.

But I'm just _so_ damn mad.

"He just wants her to cave," he said reasonably. "He wants to scare her into doing what he wants."

"Which makes him no better than Flowers."

"You're exactly right."

"And if this thing goes to trial…Mike, can you imagine what that'll be like for her?"

"We've seen it, Connie," he replied quietly. "Time and again."

"I know, but…this is Lauren."

"So what do you want to do?"

"I want that bastard in prison for life. Is that really too much to ask?"

He caught my eye and nodded solemnly and then went around to his desk.

"Have you thought about reopening the other case?"

"You mean of the girl before Lauren? The one Detective Benson was working on?"

"Uh huh. She arrested him for a reason. Do we know what that is?"

"Yeah, there was a witness. The crime was committed near Flowers' apartment building, and a neighbor claimed to have seen him in the alley where it happened, only minutes before. But without any forensic evidence to back it up, it was mostly he said, he said."

"Ballistics?"

"No brass, and the bullet was too badly damaged. The shot was to the…back of the skull, and…it went through her and into the brick wall."

I almost couldn't say the words.

The scenario was identical to Lauren's, minus the pulling of the trigger.

"Okay," Mike said with a nod. "Call Detective Benson and tell her to shake some trees."

"I appreciate the thought, Mike, but it's a ten year old case."

"Uh huh. And I'm pretty damn good at poker," he said with a wry grin. "Are you? Because even fifteen years isn't enough for this guy, so I'm thinking maybe we bluff our way to a deal more in the neighborhood of twenty-five."

I left Mike's office feeling marginally better.

Actually, feeling better than that, because not only did I now have a viable plan for dealing with that creep Flowers, but it was also nice to see Mike back in full crafty mode.

"Finally. A face I recognize."

I looked up to see Marshal Dunn standing awkwardly in the vicinity of my desk.

"Jennifer Dunn," she said as she approached me with her hand outstretched. "From last night?"

And from Sunday night, too, but it was nice of her not to bring that up.

"Of course," I said as I shook her hand. "Connie."

"Right. Lupo's wife."

"Yes," I said with a guarded smile. "Can I help you with something?"

"I'm here to talk to Mike Cutter," she replied in that slow, easy way of hers. "Can you point me in the right direction?"

"Um…can I ask why?" I questioned, feeling protective of Mike.

"It's nothing bad, I promise," she said quickly, sensing my concern. "The team thought it might be helpful if we walk through every date he and Anna had…you know, like maybe someone was following them, or if she acted suspiciously…I don't know. We're grasping, but since he spent so much time with her in her last week…"

"Let me see if he's got some time for you," I suggested.

"Hey, if not, I can come back. The others are headed over to Queens, and we decided at the last minute that one of us should stay back and talk to him, so…"

"You drew the short straw?" I asked, finally relaxing just a little.

She rolled her eyes dramatically and then settled her gaze on me as she said, "Yeah, perpetually. It's called being the newbie on the team. That, and they think that I'll seem less threatening to him since I'm a woman. I don't know. It's your basic macho bullshit."

I laughed and nodded my head.

"I know the game. But take it easy on him, okay? He's just getting his legs back."

"We're just going to have a conversation," she promised.

She waited near my desk while I walked over to his office, and it occurred to me that she's not blind. She could easily see where to find him. She was giving me the chance to prep him and him the chance to say no.

I like her already.

"You've got a marshal out here to talk to you," I told him after I opened the door just enough to stick my head in. "You want me to distract her while you make a break for it?"

"No," he said on a laugh. "It's fine. Send her in."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. I'm good, Connie. Go call Benson. And hey, aren't you supposed to be in court?"

"I _was_ in court. For all of ten minutes. Just long enough for the defense to win a motion that's going to postpone the trial for at least another month. It's crazy, Mike."

"No, it's good. Focus on Flowers."

I closed his door and went back to Dunn where she was surreptitiously looking over the photos on my desk.

"Did you learn anything about me?"

"What? Oh, sorry. Habit," she said dismissively. "No, it's…can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How did you end up with a guy like Lupo?"

Last week her question would've made me homicidal and considering my morning, it still might have today, but it was asked with true interest and an honest sense of non-judgment, so I went easy on her.

"You want the play-by-play?"

"I guess I'm surprised to find proof that lawyers and cops are compatible," she admitted. "And I'm fascinated by it. I mean, don't you have conflicts of interest?"

"Sometimes. We have acceptable secrets."

"Acceptable secrets," she repeated quietly. "Interesting. And that works?"

"For us it does. Because we trust each other, and being secretive about certain specific things doesn't lead to being secretive about other things."

"Huh. Okay. Thanks."

"Are you dating a lawyer?" I asked with a smile.

"No, but I've dated a few and it's never worked," she said. Then she shrugged and added, "I guess maybe my job is a little more secretive than the average cop."

"Or you just haven't met the right guy," I suggested.

"Maybe not. And for some reason I go for the borderline arrogant, annoyingly eloquent, Brooks Brothers type, you know?"

"Well if that doesn't scream lawyer, I don't know what does," I said on a laugh.

"Tell me about it. I guess I'm destined to be single," she said cheerily. Then she pointed at Mike's office and said, "Okay, so over there?"

I sent her on her way and then sat down to call Benson, but my phone buzzed before I could dial.

It was a text from Lupo.

_**I promised Mulder an evening at Steve-O's tonight. Is that okay?**_

I couldn't help but smile as I imagined how that phone conversation must have gone. And Mulder must be feeling pretty good if he was ready to get out and socialize.

And really, since when did Mulder enjoy socializing?

Since Lupo.

_**Of course. It sounds like fun. Text me when you're done, and I'll pick you up and then we can go straight to Jersey.**_

I set my cell down and used my desk phone to call Benson.

"Let's open up that old case," I told her.

"I pulled it up last night after Bernard left," she told me. "I'm not sure what more I can do at this point."

"Just do me a favor and _redo_ everything," I told her. "And you know, Lauren says she remembers a revolver. Anything you can find that points in that direction, run it down."

"Will do, Counselor. I'll get back to you."

TBC...


	33. Chapter 33

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>"Pregnant?"<p>

"By Demachi."

"This just keeps getting better," Bernard mumbled.

It was nearly four o'clock and the entire joint investigative squad was settled in for a true debriefing, all of us seated around the conference room table.

It had been a long day, dealing with Christina, and I was surprised by my nagging desire to just step away from this case.

I mean, that's just not like me.

But dealing with the mafia, and with a habitual liar like Christina, and having to work with such a large group...it was making me want to throw in the towel.

And it's not that I don't like the other cops and marshals involved, because I do. A lot, actually. It's just that the scope of this thing keeps growing exponentially and as much as I love detective work, it's not my top priority anymore.

I just want to hop on the next plane to...anywhere...and spend a couple of weeks in solitude.

Well, I mean in solitude with Alex.

_She's_ my top priority.

And that call from Bishop last night kind of shook my confidence.

Because what happens after these guys manage to ID us?

They've already proven that they're not just into scare tactics.

They're into action.

And my suggestion to Alex that she and I should think about staying in a hotel didn't go over well.

"_You remember what happened to the last guy who tried to come into our apartment, don't you?"_ she asked me.

_"The assassin?"_

_"If you can call him that. I prefer to call him the cause of me needing a new bathroom rug."_

_"We got lucky that time,"_ I reminded her. "_It could've been worse."_

_"It could've_," she agreed. "_But Bobby, we can't go into hiding every time some thug threatens us. We'll spend our lives in a hotel. I mean, when it's something specific, maybe, but this is still a vague threat. And besides…"_

She trailed off as she wrapped her arms around me, going up on her toes to kiss me.

_"You'll protect me, right?"_

I couldn't help but break into a grin as I asked, "_Did you really just say that?"_

"_I did_," she confirmed, and then she kissed me again, only this time with the intensity from earlier, when we were out in the hall.

After another minute she pulled back and said, "_But if you ever repeat that, you know I'll deny it. And no one will believe you_."

After that, we didn't do a lot of talking.

Instead, we took a moment to double-check the locks and then we went to bed.

"_If you really think we need to stay in a hotel until this case is over, then okay."_

This was said in a hushed tone as she joined me on the bed where I was stretched out, watching her intently while she got undressed.

She moved over me, with one leg on either side of me, and then she settled her hands on my chest and looked at me expectantly.

"_Okay as in…you agree?"_ I asked as my hands glided over her smooth thighs, upwards to her hips where I took hold of her in anticipation of guiding her to exactly where I wanted her to be. "_Or just because you'll do it for me?"_

_"I'll do it for you,"_ she replied, and at the same time, she shifted and then eased down onto me, taking me in slowly as she kept her gaze locked on mine.

Suffice it to say, we never really got back around to discussing the hotel idea last night.

Because I have trouble thinking about anything when she's…well, doing that thing she does.

And afterwards, neither of us brought it up.

I think maybe because we were too comfortable, wrapped in each other's arms underneath the covers…there's a time and place to discuss the monsters in our lives, and that just wasn't it.

But this morning while we were on our way to work, she mentioned it.

"_Let's see how today goes, and then we can decide about the hotel_."

Then she glanced at me briefly before returning her focus to the road, but at the same time, she took one hand off the wheel and put it on my leg, palm up. I settled mine over top of hers and gave it a little squeeze, and then just held on for the rest of the ride.

And see, I don't want to be one of those over-bearing, over-protective husbands.

Especially because I know for a fact that Alex can handle herself just fine.

But I can't shake the nagging worry.

And after meeting with Christina, I was even _more_ sure that I want us to get a hotel room, because the level of desperation for Demachi to find Christina will be even greater now that there's a potential heir involved.

"Wait, do we know for sure that she's pregnant?" Lupo was asking. "Or are we taking her word for it?"

"We confirmed the pregnancy this afternoon," Mary said.

The three of us had taken Christina to a clinic, since so far she hadn't sought out any type of prenatal care.

"She's sixteen weeks," Alex added. "But as for the father…it's anybody's guess."

"What would she have to gain by claiming it's Demachi's?"

"To us? I don't know. But according to her, he already knows about it, and that's why she wasn't worried about breaching protocol. She says he won't kill her."

"If she's not afraid of him, then why did she enter Witsec?"

"Oh, I think she's afraid of him," I asserted. "I just think she believes that he won't kill her. He wants a son."

"Okay, so let me make sure I have this straight," Daniels said as he leaned back in his chair. "Christina dated Demachi, and that's when she obtained enough scoop on him to put him away for life."

"Dated is probably a strong word," Mary said.

"They were hooking up," Dunn clarified.

"Knocking boots," Lupo agreed.

"A booty call," Bernard added with a grin, and everyone started chuckling.

"Okay, if we've finished tossing out tenth grade sex euphemisms…"

"Wait," McInnis said. "Um…okay, never mind. I don't have one."

Mary stared at him hard for a minute, but he just gave her an innocent look accompanied by a shrug and she finally cracked a smile.

"Nobody wants to say banging? Really? Boinking? Shagging?" Mary spouted off. "Playing a little tiddly winks?"

"Um…Inspector?"

Mary stopped talking and closed her eyes as the rest of us focused on Ross, who was now standing in the doorway.

"I hate to interrupt what sounds like a…very important discussion," Ross said as he worked hard to hold back a smile. "But I need Lupo and Bernard for just a minute, if that's possible."

"Sure," Mary agreed as she finally turned around to face the chief. "We'll take five and see if we can mature a few years."

"Hey, you're the one who got carried away," Bernard mumbled to her as he walked past her.

"Uh huh, Mr. Booty Call."

Lupo was still chuckling as he followed his partner out into the hall to meet up with Ross, who closed the door to the room.

"Somebody could've given me a wink or a nudge when the boss showed up in the doorway," Mary said, looking at me accusingly.

"He's not _your_ boss," I replied.

"Yeah, but still..." she whined.

"Playing tiddly winks?" Alex asked with a smirk. "Who says that?"

"You're going to cast aspersions on my euphemisms?"

"I'm just saying…you could've come up with something better than that."

Mary sighed heavily and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, so Christina's pregnant, and it may or may not be Demachi's kid," Dunn said, getting the conversation back on track. "Would he really kill two people just to find her? Does he think he'll be able to talk her out of testifying?"

"I guess that's his plan. The old man isn't in the best of health, so it's a power struggle to be the next in line."

"Between Demachi and Rama?"

"Right. And maybe Demachi thinks having a son will tip the scale in his favor."

"It could be a daughter," Dunn pointed out.

"I'm sure he thinks his manly swimmers will get the job done right," Alex said smartly.

"And you know, we can't forget about the family," Daniel said. "That's six more murders, all in the name of finding Christina."

"Uh huh," Mary mused. "That's an awful lot of killing just to track down the possibility that he's a father. I mean, without walking back down that ridiculous path of casual sex synonyms, if Christina was just sex to him, then wouldn't he suspect that she was sleeping with other men, too? What would make him so sure that the baby is his?"

"Maybe he's desperate enough to want to keep her around until the baby's born, and then he can have it tested."

"Or he's going to force a test on her sooner," I suggested. "Paternity can be tested in utero."

A phone started ringing a loud and annoying tone. It was Anna's. Mary changed the ringer on it so there wouldn't be any risk of ever missing a call.

"Maybe I should ask him," she said as she reached for the device.

"Should we even bother with a trace?" Daniels asked as he headed for the door.

Bernard opened it from the outside as Mary said, "Sure, let's do it."

"Do what?" Lupo asked, but then he saw the phone in her hand and he said, "Okay, I've got it."

He hustled away and the rest of us gathered around the phone as Mary clicked on the speaker.

"Inspector Shannon," she answered.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Who else is with you?"

"Oh, but I thought you already knew that. You're disappointing me, Jetmir."

There was silence for a moment as we all waited for his response, and then we heard a low chuckle.

"You honestly think Jetmir Demachi doesn't have anything better to do than chase after a little tramp with a vendetta?"

"I don't know, but I do think he has enough of an ego to talk about himself in the third person."

"Touché, Inspector. But you're wrong. Now it's my turn."

"For what?"

"To say hello to Inspectors McInnis and Daniels and Dunn. Please tell Jennifer that I'm sorry I missed her last night. I should've guessed that a woman like her spends more time in other beds than her own."

Mary quickly held up a hand to keep Dunn from responding, but I could tell she was furious about the possibility that he'd been to her place.

And a little disturbed.

I don't blame her.

"Okay, so let me get this straight," Mary said. "Jetmir is too important to chase after the little tramp, but you aren't. What does that make you? A peon? A minion? An inconsequential nobody?"

"A trusted warrior," he corrected.

"And it takes a warrior to handle a pregnant woman. I guess I can understand that. Those hormones can make a girl pretty vicious."

There was silence again, and this time I almost thought he'd hung up. I grabbed a pen and scratched out on a notepad: _**He didn't know. Play up to it.**_

"And let me tell you," Mary continued. "She is most definitely vicious right now. Not that you really have to worry about that, Jetmir, because you're never going to find her. She'll give birth to your son in a cornfield in Nebraska and you'll never see his face."

I quickly wrote out the word _**daughter**_ and showed that to Mary.

"Or you know," she picked up flawlessly. "It could be a girl, and then it'll probably be a relief for you that she's raised on the frozen tundra of Alaska because I'd think having a daughter would be a slight to your manhood, right? Studly guy like you has to shoot y-chromosomes instead of those wussy little x's. Or maybe…maybe she decides not to have it at all. It's not too late, you know. I mean, you did kill her brother's family, and two of her friends, so…who knows? Maybe she's feeling a little resentful."

"Listen to me," the man said firmly. "None of what you say changes anything. I want the girl. I've been nice for two days, and now I'm done being nice."

"No, _I'm_ done being nice," Mary interrupted as Lupo came back into the room, waving a piece of paper. She glanced at it and then said, "And how long before you think somebody in that coffee shop on Austin turns you in? There's a price on your head, you know, and times are tough. I could probably walk in there with a five dollar bill and in two minutes I'll know everything about your pathetic little life, so if I were you, I'd go scurrying back underground."

She hung up the phone and then looked around the room expectantly.

"Bad move, challenging him like that?" she asked.

"No," Daniels said. "And something's off about him."

"You mean only one thing?" Alex asked. "The whole conversation was strange. But it's the same guy, right?"

"From Monday? Yeah," Mary said with a nod and then she looked at me for confirmation.

"He definitely sounded the same. But Daniels is right. His reaction was wrong. Christina isn't afraid of Demachi so she must have told him, but this guy didn't know."

"Maybe that just means Demachi didn't share details with his underlings," McInnis suggested.

"I think we need to forget about the phone call," Bernard said. "There's no point to it. He's just trying to intimidate, because he's not offering any end game."

"That's true," I agreed. "Twice now, he's stated what he wants, but he doesn't give a deadline, or instructions for where to give her up…he's just spouting his wants, like he's negotiating without hostages."

"He thinks we're the hostages," Alex said. "He's got all of us on high alert until one of two things happen. We either catch him, or he gets Christina back."

"I think Bernard's right," Mary said. "Let's move on from the phone call. What did you two find out about Gilmore and Smith?"

"Well, we know that Smith is tied to Demachi. It was his lawyer who bailed Smith out after the arrest, the time when Gilmore was picked up and released."

"And Smith got Gilmore a job down at the docks after his discharge," Bernard said.

"Breeding ground for illegal activity," Alex commented. "Christina said that Demachi sent Gilmore to spy on her, to make sure that she wasn't going to roll on him."

"I guess he didn't do a very good job," Dunn said. "So was he sleeping with her, too?"

"She said he faked interest," I said with a nod. "She considered him a boyfriend, but then she learned the truth. After that, he tried to convince her that he really did love her."

"Until he forced himself on Anna for information," Mary said quietly.

"She was…he…" McInnis began, and then he dropped his head and let out a heavy sigh. "I was thinking bad about her for what she did."

"We all were," Daniels said. "It was the natural assumption. She wouldn't fault you for that."

"Okay, so Christina slept with Demachi. Then she broke it off, and he had Gilmore keep an eye on her. Then she decides to turn Demachi in…"

"Right, when she learned the truth about Gilmore."

"Okay, so she turns him in, goes into hiding, but she still calls Gilmore. Why?"

"She felt conflicted about him. Maybe she loved him."

"Or maybe she wanted to taunt him with the fact that she's pregnant. She knew he'd report back."

"Which he did, and then he was ordered to find her at any cost. Christina admitted to us that she gave up Anna's name. Gilmore found her, and went to her place to try to get her to talk. When she didn't, he had to tell Demachi that he couldn't find Christina, so then they popped him."

"But he told them about his lead, which was Anna, so they went to try with her, too, only she killed one of them and injured another before they got the chance to interrogate her."

"Oh, and we got an ID on the injured suspect," McInnis said. "Leon Aman."

"How'd you get a name? People in Kew?"

"Leon's neighbor, who coincidentally sells DVDs on Austin. We did a drive-by, hoping to get some information on the guy looking to ID the photographs and instead we got a hit on the other guy."

"And he was...where? A PTA meeting?" Mary asked.

"If only we were that lucky," Daniels said. "Neighbor claims Leon hopped a bus to Toronto yesterday morning."

"They got him out of town? Why?" I questioned.

"They probably figured we'd ID him from the security footage."

"Yeah, but that's still not typical mafia behavior. They don't run."

"So he's not a trusted member of the gang. They thought he'd talk if he got pinched."

"Bobby, please tell me you know someone in the RCMPs," Mary said, looking at me hopefully.

"Why, am I Canadian?"

Alex snorted out a laugh, but Bernard said, "I know a guy."

"Really?" Lupo asked him.

"Don't sound so surprised, Lupes."

"You know a guy in Toronto who can be on the lookout for an Albanian gangster with a bullet hole in his side?" Mary asked him in disbelief.

"I'll call him right now," Bernard said as he pulled out his phone.

"Good. Okay, what else? Jennifer, did you get anything good from Cutter?"

"Basically it was just everything we already know."

"But?"

"Well, he said when he came to that his first thought was to get in touch with Lupo," she said, glancing over at him. "The most recently called number in his cell log was Connie, so he dialed her number and while he did, he walked over to the window and looked down. He said he felt silly doing it, because it's not like Anna was going to be hanging out in front of the building after getting kidnapped, but that's what he did."

"And?"

"I asked him about the cars that were parked out front."

"Blue Honda?"

"Uh huh. And something else that was strange."

"Something strange and he's telling us three days later?"

"Hey, cut him some slack, okay?" Jennifer said before I could speak up to defend him. Because I was thinking the exact same thing. "He's still recovering details from that night. He took a hell of a blow to the head, you know."

"Yeah, okay. Sorry," Daniels said. "So what was it?"

"A cable van."

"Late on a Sunday night? Unusual but not unheard of."

"Yeah, well, I called them. No vans were dispatched in the area that night."

"Meaning what?"

"You tell me," she said.

"But we know the murders happened in the blue Honda. If they had a van…"

"Maybe they didn't have a van," Alex said as she caught my eye. And damn if she wasn't reading my mind.

I nodded at her and said, "Uh huh. Maybe somebody else did."

"Wait, so now we're talking about two different sets of hit men?"

"Well, Christina mentioned a turf war," I reminded everyone.

And we're _definitely_ moving into a hotel tonight.

"Uh huh," Alex finished. "Maybe we've got more to worry about than just Demachi. Maybe we've got Rama, too."

TBC...


	34. Chapter 34

**Liz POV**

* * *

><p>Lauren walked into my morgue alone.<p>

That probably should've clued me in that she had something of a personal nature to discuss. I mean, even more personal than the rest of this case was turning out to be.

But she still caught me off guard.

"Why didn't you tell me the truth about Ricky?"

"What truth is that?" I asked guiltily.

"That he was in love with you."

"Does it matter?" I fired back defensively.

"Doesn't it?"

"Look," I said as I tossed my gloves onto the table. "All that should matter is that he's not the one behind the phone calls."

"Oh, well, okay. It sounds like you don't really need detectives after all. I mean, you've got it all figured out, right? You know what's important and what isn't. You know who's guilty and who isn't. It makes perfect sense for you to offer up selective information, sending me and Eames on a goddamn wild goose chase."

Her temper was unexpected, but I suppose I deserve it.

After her outburst, she pinned me with a hard stare and I was surprised by the intensity and by the fact that I found myself withering under her gaze.

She's tougher than she looks, and that's saying something.

Of course, she's also right and I'm wrong, so maybe that's why I was so quick to cave.

"You're right."

"I know."

"Lauren, I'm saying…I'm sorry."

I maintained eye contact with her while she weighed my words and then she finally blew out a frustrated breath and said, "No, I'm sorry. The last thing you need right now is to be under attack. And I'm supposed to be your friend, and yet I…"

"You were calling it like you see it," I interrupted. "And you are my friend. Which is why I'm even _more_ sorry for not being completely honest with you, so…"

"So fine," she said easily. "It's done."

"Just like that?"

"I don't hold grudges. And I can understand why it was difficult for you to talk about it, especially with me."

"I don't think you do. Look, I was trying to maintain some semblance of self-respect, and I guess I didn't expect that Ricky would be so forthcoming about everything. I figured you'd talk to him about the phone calls and you'd see that it couldn't be him, and then you'd move on."

"Well, that's the thing. I think moving on is going to mean moving on to something else from your past, because I don't think the money has anything to do with it."

"What makes you say that? What did he tell you?"

"He was…very chatty. It seems his time behind bars gave him plenty of opportunity to think about the love of his life."

"The…_what_?"

"Don't sound so surprised. You know he was in love with you."

"Yeah, _then_. That was thirty years ago!"

"Hey, Doc," her assistant said as he came into the room. "Do you have the…"

He trailed off when he realized that he was interrupting something and then he mumbled an apology and left the room.

"Let's go into your office," she suggested. "And then maybe you can start filling in the blanks."

So I led the way into my office and then closed the door behind us. She sat down in one of the chairs, but I stayed on my feet, choosing instead to lean against the door. Maybe it gave me a sense of freedom, knowing that I can escape if I want, but I guess that's silly.

Lauren's not the enemy.

My reluctance to admit the truth…_that's_ the enemy.

"I don't know what he told you, but let me go ahead and give you my side of it."

"That'd be great," she said with a smartass smile, and I could hear the unspoken addition of _it would've been even better the first time around_.

"Jeff and I were an item. Ricky was his best friend, so he hung out with us all the time. I knew he had a crush on me. Jeff knew it, too, but he didn't see Ricky as competition. He…probably should have. Because Jeff might've had the looks, but Ricky definitely had personality. I remember thinking that together they'd be the perfect man."

"That's usually the way it works," she commiserated. Then she smiled and added, "Although _I've_ got the perfect man."

"So do I," I asserted. "Now. And I guess in a way, I did back then, too."

She raised an eyebrow at me and I finally made myself say the words out loud.

"Because I had both of them."

"Oh," she said with a nod.

"He didn't tell you that part?"

"He has you on a pedestal."

I snorted out a laugh and shook my head.

"I've got no business being on one of those, but it's nice of him to remember me that way."

"So his feelings for you weren't unrequited?"

"No," I admitted. "But I wasn't ready to do anything about it. I kept up my relationship with Jeff, and then I'd sneak around with Ricky. I…really wasn't a very good person."

"Because you cheated on a high school boyfriend? Come on, Liz. Do you honestly think that puts you in a category by yourself?"

"Why are you trying to make me feel better about what I did?"

"Why are you trying to paint yourself as some despicable woman who deserves to be burned at the stake? For the love of God, you were eighteen years old. You made mistakes."

"Mistakes? I cheated and I stole. Jeff gave me that money as some grand romantic gesture and I was sleeping with his best friend! That makes me a horrible person, whether you want to say it or not, and I don't know why he's acting now like he doesn't know anything about it, and I believe him when he says he's not looking for me now, but it _had_ to be him who gave it to me."

"It wasn't. Jeff didn't give you the money."

"What? So you know who did? Are you saying it was Ricky?"

"Yes. And you didn't steal anything."

"Okay, I know you and Danny keep saying that, but…"

"It wasn't drug money."

I stood slack-jawed staring at Lauren as she smiled smugly, crossing one leg over the other.

"I don't know what Ricky told you, but…"

"He sent you the money. And it was his."

"But he was broke, just like us. If he had it, then he stole it, and I already told you what he was into back in the day, so…"

"It was an inheritance from his grandparents. His parents had put it away for him, and it was supposed to pay for his college. When he realized that he'd thrown his life away, getting caught up in the dealing scene, he decided that he wanted something good to come of it."

"So he gave me money from his dead grandparents?"

"Uh huh."

"But…so there wasn't any drug money?"

"There was. Jeff hid it."

Okay, so maybe he's a better liar than I thought because he'd sworn to me that he didn't. Of course, I just assumed when I got the check that it was his way of telling me the truth, but now…

My head is spinning.

"Do you want to know where he hid it?" she asked me.

"There's no way it was in my apartment. The DEA tore that place apart, and so did I."

"No, but let's just say you weren't the only one who was cheating."

"Wait, so I've felt guilty for thirty years and yet he was seeing someone on the side, too? Oh, this is just crazy. This is…I can't believe this."

"You guys were kids. Kids do stupid things," she said simply.

And I know she's right.

Hell, I had lunch with Jeremy earlier today, and just listening to him talk about his friends…it almost makes me seem like a saint.

"Okay, so…I didn't commit a crime."

"Nope."

"Huh," I said as I finally sat down in a chair. "I'm just…I don't know what to think."

"Hey," she said quietly, pausing until I brought my eyes up to hers. "Why did you think you couldn't tell me about that? Did you really think I'd look at you differently?"

I sighed and leaned my head back, my mind still racing over the latest revelations.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But you know, I'd really hate it if you did. And I wasn't willing to risk it. I put that person behind me for a reason…because I wasn't proud of the decisions I made, and to have them come back to haunt me now…I felt like I was finally getting what I deserve and yet at the same time, I wasn't ready to lose the respect of my friends."

"I absolutely respect you," she said firmly. "You haven't lost that."

"Even though I sent you on a wild goose chase?" I asked drolly.

"Well, it really wasn't, was it? Because now you know the truth about the money. But you know what else it means, don't you?"

"That someone's looking for me for another reason," I stated with a nod. "And that I dragged up this whole incident for no reason whatsoever."

"For good reason," she argued. "You can have a clear conscience now. But yeah, it must be something else. Did the chief tell you about the call he got this morning?"

"Yes. It sounds like a shakedown. I assumed it was going to be for the hundred grand, but I guess not."

"No, so you know what my next question is, right?"

"What else did Beth Chambers do?" I posed with a wry grin.

"Yeah, and you know, it'd be really great if you'd just go ahead and tell me because you know I'm going to figure it out anyway, so this'll be a whole lot easier."

"You're assuming I know what it's about."

"Don't you?"

Probably, yes.

But I'm sick to death of my dirty laundry being hung out for all to see.

And okay, so it's not _all_. It's Lauren. And Eames. And my husband. But still…

Lauren's phone buzzed, so I had a moment of reprieve while she checked the message and then she typed out a reply before looking at me again.

"So?" she asked expectantly.

"From Bernard?" I questioned, stalling my response.

"Connie," she corrected.

"Oh. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, she's…working on something for me."

"Something official?" I fished.

"Yes."

"Okay."

She reached behind her head and pulled out the hair band and then shook out her hair. I've been around her enough to recognize the move as a nervous habit, and so I realized that I'd touched on a nerve.

One part of me wanted to push her on it, since I'd just bared my soul to her, but the other side of me…the compassionate, rational side decided to let it go.

"Alright, so," I began, but then she said in a rush, "Ten years ago, I was raped. The guy's in prison for something else, and Connie's bringing charges against him for what he did to me."

I have absolutely no idea what to say to that.

So instead of responding, I sat still and watched her while she put her hair back into a ponytail, and then she brought her eyes to mine and said, "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I just figured that full disclosure goes both ways."

"Make _me_ feel uncomfortable?"

"I'm sure it was the last thing you expected me to say, and then I just blurted it out, but…you know, talking about it is new for me. Hell, having friends is new for me, but I guess this is what we do, right? I mean, friends confide in one another and there's no risk of judgment. Right?"

"You're absolutely right. So…you're okay?"

"I'm more okay now than I've been in a long time. Bernard's helped me a lot. Actually, we're driving down to Pennsylvania in about an hour."

"For what?"

"I'm going to pay my rapist a visit," she said boldly.

All this time I've been feeling sorry for myself, telling half-truths and lies by omission to keep from saying out loud that I repeatedly slept with my boyfriend's best friend three _decades_ ago, afraid that the title would be attributed to me even now, and yet Lauren was dealing with this.

I might not be a thief like I thought, but I'm still a coward.

Or I was.

I don't have to be anymore.

"I really thought that the phone calls were related to the money," I stated. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my relationship with Ricky, but I also believed that it was irrelevant. Lord knows I wasn't a straight-A student, or a model citizen, but with the exception of that stint as the main squeeze of a drug dealer, I can only think of one other thing that it might be. And maybe I should've thought of it first, I don't know, but I didn't."

"But you think you know what it might be?"

"Well, I'm not sure why the shakedown is coming into play, but if I had to guess, I'd say it's probably someone looking for their birth mother."

TBC...


	35. Chapter 35

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>We spent the day in a 4-D version of the book of who's who in Irish mob history.<p>

Well, in New York anyway.

I guess we'll hit up the Boston chapter of that book tonight.

But for now, we had five dead Westies, all of whom were involved in, wink-wink nudge-nudge, the trash collection business.

And how is it that a couple of cops were welcomed into the underbelly of Hell's Kitchen?

Because I placed a quick call to Ryan Mullins.

Twenty minutes later, Carolyn and I shared the title of _untouchable_.

And maybe I should feel guilty about using my connections with mobsters during an investigation.

Maybe I should feel guilty that I even have these connections at all.

But I don't.

Because by four o'clock in the afternoon, we were heading into 1PP with enough dirt on Tony Puccio to get a search warrant.

"_O'Farrell had the idea to expand on our territory. Are you with me, my boy?_"

We were talking with Kevin Shaw, a top man in the Westies outfit. Whatever Mullins had said to the lackey who manned the bar at the hole-in-the-wall pub we were in, it had caused him to instantly seek out his boss, who in turn had welcomed us into his sanctuary.

When we mentioned the names of the dead, he was quick to give us the lowdown.

O'Farrell was the ring leader of the crew that was comprised of our other four victims.

"_Sure,_" I agreed with a shrug. "_So he went south."_

"_Aye. There's plenty of trash to be collected down there, to be sure."_

"_He didn't realize he was squeezing the Italians?"_

"_Who's been saying such rubbish? That's not what happened. 'Tis the other way around."_

"_You guys were there first,_" Carolyn said soothingly.

"_Yes, ma'am. And minding our own business, to be sure."_

I didn't point out that minding their own business probably meant charging small businesses a pretty penny in order to keep from being vandalized or frequented by unsavory looking characters who would be bad for business.

That's not what we were here to investigate.

"_Okay, so how far south did you go?"_

"_West 14th , the last I heard."_

"_And when did the trouble start?"_

"_Devlin came to me a few weeks ago and said he had a run-in."_

"_Why'd he come to you? Where was O'Farrell?"_

"_Fluthered, no doubt. He had a bit of a weakness for the sauce."_

I looked at him skeptically and he grinned broadly.

"_I don't mean in that he drank it. Only that he couldn't hold it," _he explained.

"_So he got locked up at the local while his boy was getting reefed."_

"_Aye," _he said with an approving nod, apparently appreciating my ability to speak the lingo._ "No doubt with a slapper as well. He's not fit to run the outfit, but we didn't have a chance to oust him yet. Not long after, his boys started dropping off."_

"_What kind of run-in did Devlin have? Did he say?"_

"_He didn't talk specifics. He only mentioned the name Tony and he said he'd take care of it. I haven't seen the poor son of a bitch since."_

"_And the others? Did they report run-ins before they went missing, too?"_

"_Not to me, but I'll put the word out, to be sure. So you're saying this is the work of DiMarco?"_

DiMarco is the sleaze ball who slithered into power after Massaro's demise.

"_We're not sure," _I said firmly_. "So let us handle it, okay? We don't need an all-out war on our hands, especially when we're not sure yet what happened."_

Although I was pretty sure.

Territory scuffles rarely end well, and considering I have five bodies with a hit signature found next door to a guy named Tony, then I'd say it's a safe bet.

But still…

"_When you're sure, you'll be back," _he stated knowingly. "_And we'll have us a pint to justice, right, my boy?"_

I agreed that I would, although I wasn't sure if I'd be able to follow through.

Am I even allowed to be acquainted with men who walk on the wrong side of the law?

I guess I need to figure that out, considering I may be related to one.

Because even though Carolyn made a good point about O'Connor possibly wanting me for something completely different, I've just got a gut feeling that it's not.

Something different, I mean.

For whatever reason, I really believe that he knows something about my real father.

And I'm starting to get a little nervous about it.

We got back to the squad room and made our official request for a search warrant.

We'd execute it first thing in the morning.

Then I made a quick call to John, who was giving us the use of his chopper tonight so that we could get up to Boston and back without killing ourselves or missing any time from work.

"John said we can leave any time," I told Carolyn. "Let me run to the men's room and then we can get out of here."

So I headed down the hall, and that's when I ran into Mary, who was on her way out of the conference room.

"Oh, I've got something for you," I told her as I turned around and went back to my desk.

"What is it?"

"Here," I said after reaching into my desk drawer.

"Southern Bride?" she asked loudly, looking at the magazine in disgust. "Are you kidding me?"

"I thought you might need some pointers," I replied casually, working really hard to hold back a smile.

What can I say? I can't resist teasing her.

"From this? Do you know how many lace-bearing animals were killed just for the photo shoots? No…you know what? This whole thing's off. Because you're either being serious, in which case my potential new brother-in-law is a complete yuppie-ish, superficial, pretentious, moronic flake or you're kidding, and that would just make you a jackass."

"Go with the jackass," Carolyn said as she came up behind Mary. "And you do know they don't get lace from animals, right?"

"So you're in on it, too, huh?" Mary said in annoyance, tossing the magazine into the trash.

"In on what? Buying you a magazine? Oh, the horror."

"Yeah, thanks, Carolyn. I thought you were going to be on my side in all of this. Somehow I doubt that when you got married you dressed up in a taffeta gown with a bunch of petticoats underneath."

Carolyn started laughing and so did I, although more because of the look on Mary's face than because of her words.

I'm not exactly sure what a petticoat is, but I do know that Carolyn didn't wear a bunch of them under her dress. The one she wore in Boston, I mean.

She didn't wear a dress when we got married for real, but I count the ceremony in Boston as our wedding, too, and that time, she barely wore anything at all under her dress.

I know.

I checked.

"Mary, relax," Carolyn said soothingly. "We're teasing you. You can wear Levis and boots if you want to."

"That's right," I agreed, feeling a little bad about how worked up my gift had gotten her. "The important thing to remember is…now we'll be related, so we can't hook up on the side anymore, okay?"

She finally laughed, and then she sat down on the edge of my desk.

"Sorry. I guess I'm wound up a little tight."

"No luck yet on the case? And where is everyone?"

She looked past me down the hall and said, "They'll be out any minute. And as for luck, it's coming in fits and starts. You?"

"It's amazing how quickly doors are opening for us. Or rather, for Mike," Carolyn said.

"What kind of doors?"

"The Irish kind," I said. "We're actually heading up to Boston as soon as we can get out of here."

"Don't let me hold you up. I'm going back to the hotel and I'm going to order room service, maybe soak in the tub, and then sleep for at least ten hours. And then in the morning, I'll come back here and start all over again. Unless…do you want me to come with you guys?"

"I wouldn't dream of coming in between you and your tub," I told her, then I looked at Carolyn and said, "Give me five minutes, okay, sweetheart?"

I left her alone with Mary and retraced my steps down the hall, only this time as I neared the conference room, the door opened and out came seven people instead of only one.

"Detective Logan," McInnis greeted. "How are things on the island?"

"Well, I don't have any new bodies today, so that's a good thing," I replied. "You?"

"No new bodies," Dunn answered with a nod. "Are you and your wife coming to Steve-O's?"

"Another debriefing?"

"A mini one," Lupo explained. "I'm going to get Mulder. He's got cabin fever. But I'm not sure who's coming."

"Not me," Bernard said. "Lauren will be here any minute, and then we're going to Pennsylvania."

"Not Mary either," Dunn offered. "I think this case has her a little overwhelmed. But I'm going. And McInnis, right?" she finished, looking at the other marshal.

"Yeah, I could use a drink."

"I've got a Skype date with my wife," Daniels said.

"And I'm going to Boston," I told them. "So I'll have to take a rain check, but tell Mulder I say hello."

Bobby caught my eye over top of most everyone else's heads and I tipped my head towards the restroom. He leaned down and whispered something to Alex and then followed me down the hall.

"Are you hitting up Steve-O's?" I asked him once we were in the men's room.

"No. I was thinking about taking a trip to Boston."

"You don't have to do that. You guys have your hands full."

"And we're done for the day," he pointed out. "So unless you tell me that we're just not invited, then we're going with you."

He stared at me like he was waiting for me to argue with him, and it suddenly hit me that he looks _tired_.

"John's chopper's at the heliport just waiting on us," I told him. "It'll be a nice flight up, and it'll give you a chance to tell me what's on your mind."

"On _my_ mind? Nothing. I'm fine. You're the one going up to have a beer with Shane O'Connor."

"And you're the one in the middle of a joint Marshal-NYPD case that's already seen eight murders, one of whom was a marshal."

"They're trying to get names on us," he said after a minute. "On me and Alex. Lupo, Bernard…I'm not sure who else. I told Alex that I want us to move into a hotel tonight."

"Is she fighting you on it?"

"Not really, no. She doesn't agree with me, but she said she'd do it."

"You don't need to stay in a hotel. Just stay with us."

"I appreciate that, Mike, but we have no idea how long this is going to last."

"Which is exactly why you don't want to go to a hotel. It's fun for a night or two, but it gets old after a while."

"So does having house guests."

I rolled my eyes as I turned on the sink to wash my hands.

"Since when did you become a house guest? We're not discussing it. You two come up to Boston with us, and when we get back, we'll swing by your place and grab some things and then go back to our house."

I could tell he still wasn't sure, so I added, "Besides, you'll be doing me a favor. I'm a little worried about what I'm going to find in Boston, so it'll be nice to have you around if I need to talk."

He held my gaze in the mirror and then he smirked and said, "Did you really think I'd buy that line of crap?"

"What?" I asked innocently.

"That you'll need to talk? Please. You hardly ever want to talk and if you do, you talk to Carolyn. Not to mention the fact that we have phones."

I shrugged at him and he finally conceded.

"Fine. We'll have girl-talk over herbal tea and cookies."

Fifteen minutes later, we left 1PP and two hours after that, we were in a cab in Boston. Alex had called Johnny once the helicopter landed, but he asked us to give him another hour or two so instead of meeting with him first, we decided to go ahead and talk to O'Connor. The mob boss routinely worked from the back room of a pub called The Angry Sheep.

"I wonder why the sheep are angry," Alex commented as Bobby pulled open the door to the place.

"Maybe they were shaved a little too close?" I posed, and then all joking was set aside.

It was dark inside, and it smelled of cigars and whiskey and there was a stereotypical Irish melody playing lightly in the background.

I eased closer to Carolyn, and resisted the urge to slip my arm around her waist. I wanted to protect her, but doing a move like that would be silly, because it would block her from having access to her piece.

I figured Bobby was in the same quandary with Alex, and the four of us ended up standing abreast in the entryway of the dimly lit pub looking much like Wyatt Earp and his boys preparing to do battle on the streets of Tombstone.

"Does he know you're coming?" Bobby said to me under his breath as at least half a dozen rough looking men got up from their barstools.

"I wasn't specific," I replied, although it was blatantly clear now that maybe I should have.

"You girls lost?" one of the men called out derisively.

"Anyone else feeling a little deja vu?" Carolyn muttered.

And she was right.

This was just like the last time we were in Boston, and I'd bet money that if I made a move for my cell phone to call O'Connor, there'd be a dozen or more guns drawn in less than two seconds.

"We were invited by Shane O'Connor," I told the men.

And apparently that was pretty funny.

"Oh, to be sure now. Because Mr. O'Connor is always sending out invitations to the guard, don't you know."

"Go ask him," Alex said. "Tell him it's Mike Logan."

The men laughed some more, but as we continued to stand there staring at them, one man finally decided to turn and head towards a back office.

He was back in two minutes, and he muttered something to the bartender who then promptly set us up with four draft Guinness pints and led us to a table near the back.

"My apologies for my crew," he said quietly. "Mr. O'Connor will be joining you in a few minutes. Drinks are on the house."

"Okay, am I the only one a little freaked out by this Godfather treatment?" I asked as the room suddenly went back to the way it was before we disrupted the scene.

"Maybe he wants to thank us for helping with the case," Carolyn suggested. "I mean, we are trying to put away the Italians who killed off five Westies."

"If he wanted to thank us for that, he would've just called. This is different. He knows something."

I was as sure about that as I've ever been about anything in my life.

Now I just had to wait for O'Connor to come out and tell me exactly what that _something_ is.

TBC...


	36. Chapter 36

**Bernard POV**

* * *

><p>"Like…a real letter? On paper?"<p>

I glanced over at Lauren where she sat in the passenger seat. She was shifted towards me with one leg tucked beneath her and our joined hands were resting on her thigh. Her expression was one of slight disbelief, but I nodded in response.

"I know. It's crazy, isn't it?" I teased. "What can I say? She's old school."

We'd completed about two-thirds of the three-hour drive to Frackville.

During the first ten minutes, Lauren recounted Connie's conversation with Schmenke.

After that, we let it go, choosing instead to purposely ignore the reason for being in the car driving out Interstate 80, but that's fine.

No sense ruining a perfectly good road trip.

During the second ten minutes, the two of us hemmed and hawed our way over and around the facts of our respective cases.

"_How's your case coming?"_

"_Good, I guess. We…connected a few dots, and now we…might know more about who we're looking for because…well, because new information has come to light and it seems like…the motive might be different than we originally thought. You?"_

"_Oh, well…honestly? Exactly what you said. We started in one direction, and then we learned something unexpected and now we're heading in another direction_," she answered.

"_And Liz is holding up okay?"_

"_She's tough. She's Liz. What about Mary?"_

"_Same."_

And since that's about all either of us could say about work, instead we started talking about our lives outside of work.

"When was the last one?" she asked me.

Because I'd just revealed the fact that I write letters to my mother. Good old-fashioned pen-to-paper letters.

My mom doesn't have a computer, and she probably wouldn't know what to do with one if she did.

Last year she finally broke down and got a cell phone, but she insists that it's only for emergencies, and I could practically feel the belt on my backside the first time I tried to text her.

"_Kevin, I can't feel the emotion in a one-sentence, typed message that I read from a two-inch screen. If you can't be bothered to write me a letter, well…then just don't bother_," she'd said to me, her voice filled with disappointment.

"_I can still write letters, Mama. I just thought that if we start texting, you'll feel more connected to me, because I can touch base more often_," I'd replied lightly, arguing my point.

"_You're trying to get out of spending the time it takes to write down your thoughts. That's fine, Kevin. I'm just the woman who gave birth to you and raised you, all by myself without any help from your father. So you're right…I'm not worth ten minutes of your time."_

She's a bit of a drama queen, my mother, but I guess she was just afraid that I'd stop writing altogether if I got in the habit of texting.

So I write letters.

And I call her once every other month. I tried to do it more often, but she insists that it costs too much money.

"_Who do you think you are? Will Smith_?" she'd asked me when I called for the second time in as many weeks. "_If you've got so much money to throw around on phone calls then why don't you fly out to California and visit your mother?"_

"_I will as soon as I can,_" I'd promised. "_But it doesn't cost me anything to call. See, with the cell phone…"_

"_Don't talk to me like I'm a child, Kevin. A stamp costs twenty-eight cents. Write me a letter."_

Of course, a stamp hasn't cost twenty-eight cents in quite some time, but my mom hasn't progressed with the modern world.

Not in the last decade anyway.

So I send her letters, and every few months I include a book of stamps so that she can write back to me.

"A few weeks ago," I admitted. "I'm actually over due to send her another one."

"A few weeks…so we'd only been together for a week or two at that point, huh? I guess you didn't mention me."

"Actually, I did," I replied.

"Really? Do I want to know what you said?"

"Oh, you know…the usual. I told her I met this really ugly girl who only wants me for my body."

She started laughing and then moved in the seat, letting go of my hand so that she could run her fingers over the back of my head.

"You're such a sweet guy," she said softly.

"Because I told my mother that you're ugly?" I teased.

She brought her other hand over to rest on my thigh and then she pressed her lips against my cheek for a moment before saying, "Because you write letters to your mother. And because you mentioned me at all."

She continued kissing me, along my jaw and around my ear, and that hand of hers…the one on my leg…it was creeping upwards at a measured, unhurried pace.

"It's hard to focus on the road when you're doing that," I confessed, my voice sounding almost as shaky as I felt.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No."

But she did, presumably to help avoid having us get into an accident because she was practically making my eyes roll back in my head already.

But even though she eased up on me in that sense, she didn't move away from me. Instead, she moved her hand up to rest against my chest and leaned her head against my shoulder.

We drove in silence for nearly half an hour until she finally spoke.

"B., why am I doing this?"

"Because it'll help you."

"Are you sure?"

"No," I admitted. "Have you changed your mind?"

"We've come too far to go back."

"No, we haven't. If you want me to turn around, I will."

She fell silent again, but only for a moment, and then she said, "Keep going."

"Are you scared?" I asked gently, hoping she wouldn't take my question the wrong way.

I wouldn't fault her for being scared, or think less of her.

I just want her to be able to talk about whatever it is that she's feeling.

"I am," she answered. "He's had this power over me for a long time."

With my one arm that was around her shoulders, I squeezed her more tightly to me and then I kissed the top of her head.

"It ends tonight."

An hour later, the two of us were escorted into a visitors' room in Frackville SCI.

"You're my partner," she stated without looking at me.

"Okay."

"I mean, he's going to ask. So you're my partner."

"That's fine."

"Because if he knows you're my boyfriend, then he might say things…you know, like to taunt you or something, and I don't want him talking about…that. About…specific things, or…"

"Lauren, relax. It's fine."

"Yeah?" she asked, finally bringing her eyes to mine.

And the look in them – apprehension, uncertainty, fear – filled me with a fresh flood of emotion – protectiveness, compassion, anger.

And suddenly I was more afraid than ever that I wouldn't be able to stop myself from killing Bill Flowers.

_Take a deep breath_, I reminded myself. _This is about Lauren, not you_.

"I'm your partner," I confirmed. "And if he starts saying something you don't want to hear, we can leave. He's the one locked up in here, not us. You're in control of this visit. You're in control of everything that happens, okay?"

"I'm in control," she repeated with a nod.

But as she stood there staring nervously at the door, she began cracking her knuckles, one at a time, three on each finger. She continued the process until every one of them made a popping sound.

"Do you want to sit down?" I suggested lightly.

"Should I?" she replied, flashing her eyes to mine again, and I could see that her anxiety was increasing by the second. "I don't even know. How can I not know whether to sit or stand? Oh my God, B…what am I doing here? This is just…it's just…"

And then the door opened.

As much as I wanted to look at him, I looked at Lauren instead, and I silently willed her every bit of strength that I have because as much as I think this meeting is a good idea, if she falls apart and lets him have the upper hand, then it could set her back miles in her psychological recovery.

So I watched her watching him as he was led into the room and then pushed down into a chair. I heard the guard adjust the shackles around Flowers' wrists until the chain was secured to a steel loop on the table, and then I finally shifted my gaze to the guard, who was looking at me for confirmation.

I didn't give it to him.

Instead, I tilted my head towards Lauren, indicating that she was the one making the decisions, so he turned to her and said, "Is this good?"

"Yes," she answered, and then she said it again, only in a stronger voice. "Yes, thank you. We'll be fine. You can wait outside."

"Schmenke told me you weren't coming," Flowers stated after the guard left. He sat back in his chair and then let his eyes walk over Lauren in a slow, deliberate manner that had me clenching my fist.

"So you know who I am," she replied, and I could tell that her fear was dissipating.

She dropped her hands, where she'd still been fiddling with her fingers, and took a couple of steps closer to the table.

"Honey, I've seen your face in my dreams every night for the last ten years," Flowers said with a grin. Then he leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table and said cockily, "I knew you'd come. But you were supposed to come alone. Who's the pit-bull?"

"I'm her partner," I answered, even though he still wasn't looking at me.

"You're here to make sure I don't try to hurt her?" he retorted.

"No, I'm here to make sure she doesn't hurt you. Or at least not too much."

Flowers laughed and kept staring at Lauren as he said, "You'd never hurt me, would you, honey? That was probably the best night of your life, wasn't it? I mean, I only gave you what you wanted."

Schmenke had obviously coached Flowers on the off-chance that Lauren would come here. He wasn't going to admit to anything that would get him into more trouble. Of course, nothing he said in here would be admissible, but still…I guess he wasn't going to take any chances.

Lauren put her hands down on the surface of the table and I eased a little closer because I didn't like the fact that she was within arm's length of him, and just as I was having that thought, Flowers reached out and touched the back of her hand.

"I'll be out of here in a few months. And then I'll give it to you again."

Lauren froze for a moment, his words and his touch seeming to paralyze her, so as much as I'd planned to stay out of things, I couldn't any longer.

I grabbed onto the end of the table and shoved it towards Flowers. The edge of it caught him hard in the gut, pushing him backwards, but the chair legs didn't slide quite so easily, so instead the chair tipped backwards, sending Flowers flying back towards the wall, but then the chain fastened to the tabletop reached its limit and pulled him roughly forward again. He ended up half in and half out of the chair, having slid partially beneath the table, and I stepped around next to him and grabbed onto the front of his shirt, pulling him back into a sitting position, but even after he was up, I didn't let go.

"I think there's some confusion about the purpose of this visit," I ground out menacingly. "You're here to answer any question she might have for you. Other than that, you keep your mouth shut or I'll shut it for you. Are we clear?"

Flowers slowly brought his eyes to mine and despite the fact that he was completely at my mercy, there was no fear in them.

"I thought you were here to protect me from her," he said with a knowing grin. "But we all know the truth, don't we?"

Then he fixed his gaze on Lauren who still hadn't moved during the entire scuffle.

"You brought your partner because you're scared of me, aren't you, honey? You're afraid if I got you alone I might get out of these cuffs and then I'd pin you up against the wall, just like before, only this time I'd…"

He broke off his threat when I jerked him out of the chair and wrestled him down onto the table, with my forearm down against his windpipe.

He started gasping for breath, unable to fight me off because the shackles around his wrists wouldn't allow for his hands to reach my arm.

And while I continued to push harder and harder, I debated if Connie would be able to get me off.

Temporary insanity?

Extreme duress?

"B."

I heard Lauren's voice, but it still took me several seconds before I could respond.

Actually, she had to say it again before I finally eased up enough so that Flowers could start drawing in ragged breaths.

I glanced up at Lauren and she shook her head at me, encouraging me to let him go, so I forced myself to move away from him.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly to her while Flowers awkwardly rolled off the table and got back into his chair.

She flashed me a small smile and then her face went serious again as she turned her attention to Flowers. She moved around the table and sat on the edge of it, facing him but not too close.

"Let's get something straight," she said to him. "There's no deal for you. I didn't come because you asked me to. I came because before…when our paths crossed…I never got to see what a pathetic little man you are."

"Pathetic?" he scoffed, although he'd lost some of his bravado. "You loved every second of it. I mean, if you didn't, then why didn't you do anything about it?"

It was amazing how he instantly touched on her hot-button issue because her lack of fight is what keeps her up at night.

"You had a gun to her head," I said, carefully enunciating each word, saying them as much for Lauren as for Flowers.

"That's right. You had a gun. And I know why, too," Lauren said, her voice low and biting. "Because you're a little limp-dick mother-fucker who can only get it up by putting the fear of God into unsuspecting women."

"Fear wasn't the only thing I put into you," he fired back quickly, and then his eyes flicked over to mine. "Did she tell you about that? Does she get hot anytime she sees a piece of rebar?"

The punch came out of nowhere.

Hers, not mine.

One second, she was sitting there nodding thoughtfully as though he was saying something of probative value and the next his head was snapping back from the impact.

She followed up the left hook with an uppercut, and there probably would've been a third punch if the guard hadn't opened the door.

"Everything okay in here?" he asked, looking at me and studiously avoiding making eye contact with the prisoner.

"It's all copasetic," I told him.

He gave me a nod and closed the door again. I guess he wanted to make sure that it wasn't Flowers who was doing the beating.

I knew we wouldn't have any trouble with him. I'd chatted him up on the way in, and learned that he was former Philly PD, and he still carries a strong sense of brotherhood for boys in blue.

But the interruption was enough to settle Lauren's temper and she moved back around to the front of the table while Flowers took a moment to duck his head and wipe the blood from his mouth onto his shirt sleeve.

"Feel better?" he asked her.

"I'll feel better when you're dead."

"You should be grateful that _you're_ not dead."

"Grateful to you?"

"I'm the one who let you live."

"Yeah, and why is that?" she asked casually, even though I knew it was weighing heavily on her mind.

"Maybe it's because you're a damn fine piece of ass and I was planning to tap that shit again," he said smartly.

"I bet your cellie says the same thing," I retorted, reining in my anger so that I could see what else might get Flowers riled up, because he didn't seem to mind what Lauren and I had done so far. I guess he knew we weren't going to actually kill him.

And my comment hit its mark.

"What do you know about that?" he asked me.

"I'm just saying…I had a nice little chat with him earlier and I might have mentioned that you've got a things for kids. You know, even hardcore felons don't like pedophiles. I bet he's waiting for you right now…counting down the minutes to lights out."

"You're full of shit."

"Don't answer her question and see how full of shit I am."

"You want to know why I didn't kill you?" he repeated, looking back at Lauren. "Dumb luck. I pulled the trigger, but the gun jammed."

Thirty minutes later, we were back in the car.

By the time we hit the interstate, I had a feeling that Flowers was already in the infirmary.

As much as I want him dead, I'm not a killer, but I _did_ make sure that the word about Flowers being a pedophile got back to his cellmate.

More importantly, the promise of an eradicated speeding ticket received in Manhattan assured me that the guard would swear that Flowers looked fine when we left.

But most important of all was what the trip did for Lauren, so after we were several miles down the road, I asked her.

"Is that how you envisioned it would go?"

"No," she answered, and then she resumed her position from our trip down, sitting as close to me as possible with her hand on my chest and her head against my shoulder. "No, I thought I'd kill him."

"That makes two of us."

"Yeah, when you had him on the table, choking the life out of him…I thought about how easy it would be to just do it. To let him die."

"I was wondering if Connie would be good enough to get me off," I said lightly.

She chuckled and said, "She is. But I'm glad you didn't. I want him to live a very long life. Behind bars."

"That definitely has its merits," I agreed.

"And you know, you were right about him. He's nothing but a coward who hid behind a gun."

"That's right. He doesn't have any power over you."

She hummed thoughtfully and then said, "B., what he said about…I mean the…um…you know, I didn't tell you details about some things because…"

"I don't need to know details," I interrupted.

"I know, but…"

"Just wait."

This wasn't a conversation I wanted to have with her while I was driving. I need to see her face.

I saw an exit for a rest stop coming up, so I got into the right lane and put on my blinker and then moved over onto the off-ramp.

The rest area parking lot was nearly empty, which made it the perfect place.

Once I parked the car, I cut off the engine and we both got out, moving over to sit on one of the picnic tables.

She held onto my hand and then tipped her head back, looking up at the sky which was mostly black except for a scattering of stars.

"The gun jammed," she said quietly. "That's the only reason why I'm sitting here today. How am I supposed to reconcile that in my head?"

"I don't know, but I think you have to. Otherwise it might as well have gone the other way, you know what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, I know you're right. I guess I was just expecting him to have another answer. I thought there was something about me that made me different."

"You are different," I said firmly. "But not because of anything that happened with that loser back in Frackville."

She stopped looking at the stars and instead settled her eyes on mine.

"Do you want to know what I told my mother about you?" I continued.

"I don't know," she said with a slightly hesitant smile.

And damn if she isn't just the most beautiful woman…

"I told her that I thought I'd met the one."

"The one. As in…"

"As in exactly what I've been looking for my whole life."

"B.," she said simply, her voice catching on that single syllable.

"No, I'm serious. And maybe we don't make it, I don't know. But I do know that you'll be the measuring stick for any other woman who might come into my life. And I can tell you already that no one else will ever be good enough, so even though I'm casually saying _maybe we don't make it_…I'm really hoping that we do. Really, _really_ hoping."

She smiled fully as I finished my declaration and then she put her hand on my cheek, lightly rubbing along my two-day old beard.

"You'd better not have other women coming into your life. You know I carry a gun, right?"

She didn't wait for my response, but instead leaned over and kissed me, and then she said seriously, "Thank you for tonight."

"You're very welcome. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah," she said. "I'm ready to put Frackville in my rearview mirror for good."

TBC...


	37. Chapter 37

**Jeremy POV**

* * *

><p>I know that eventually I'll have to work on making some friends my own age, but for now, I'm enjoying hanging out with my dad's friends.<p>

And that probably makes me sound pretty lame.

But none of them are as old as he is, and they're all really cool.

And maybe it's because for the past several years, I've spent very little time with my dad, but whatever the reason, I actually like being around him.

And Liz, too, of course.

When my dad got roped into a meeting with the commissioner at eleven-thirty this morning, he sent me a text.

_**I won't be able to have lunch with Liz.**_

He didn't ask me to go, but the implication was there, and it made me feel good to know that he trusted me to go check on her. Because I could tell that he was really worried about her.

I've been pretty worried, too.

_**I'm on it**_, I replied.

So after I delivered a ten-page fax to Detective Sessions, I went and had lunch with Liz.

And she almost seemed back to her normal self.

Or at least, I could tell she was trying to _act_ normal.

So I lightened the mood by telling her a few funny stories about my rebellious friends in high school. I thought it might make her laugh, and I also hoped that maybe it would show her that high school kids just do stupid things, since Dad had said this thing that's bothering her has to do with when she was my age.

"_And where were you during all of this?_" she asked me in amusement.

"_Oh, well…I was home studying, of course,"_ I lied, knowing that she'd know I was lying.

"_Uh huh. Maybe the better question would be where was your mother?" _she asked as she took a bite of the deli sandwich I'd brought for her. Then she stopped abruptly and said, "_I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that_."

"_Why not? You're right. If I'd been living with you and Dad, I would've never gotten away with anything like that. She's just so…clueless."_

"_That's one word for her,"_ she said with a smirk.

"_I can think of a couple more_," I asserted. "_But you don't like me to use bad language, so…"_

"_Jeremy,"_ she admonished, but then she started laughing. "_You know, I'm going to go to hell for talking so disparagingly about your mother. I really shouldn't do that."_

"_You're a great person,_" I corrected. "_And she deserves the things you think about her because she's never been nice to you."_

She shrugged and took another bite of her sandwich, and since it was weighing heavily on my mind, I pushed forward.

"_So Dad says that everything's good between the two of you_."

She looked at me in surprise and said, "_Of course it is. You thought otherwise?"_

"_I wasn't sure. I mean, that phone call the other night…you've been distant the past couple of days…"_

"_I'm sorry. I guess I forgot how perceptive you are. But yes, your dad and I are perfectly fine. It's something else, but it's nothing you need to worry about."_

"_That's what he said. But you know, I still worry."_

"_Tell me how the job is going," _she deflected._ "Are you being run ragged?"_

"_Everybody's really nice. And they drink _a lot_ of coffee," _I told her._ "But just being in that atmosphere makes me excited about being there for real, you know?"_

"_You should hang out with me for a while. Maybe you'll want to be an ME instead."_

"_Thanks, but…no," _I admitted, casting a cautious glance in the direction of the sheet-covered body lying on the table._ "I don't know how you do it. You must have a cast-iron stomach."_

"_It's about finding evidence, the same as what detectives do. And how are you going to act at a crime scene if you can't stand the sight of blood?"_

"_I'm not saying I can't deal with it. But you purposely cut into people so that you can examine their insides. That's just…gross."_

"_How eloquent," _she replied drolly._ "But seriously, feel free to observe some time. You'll be surprised by what you can learn from a dead body. And the good detectives…the ones like Bobby and Alex…they're pretty sharp when it comes to examining a victim. I hate to admit it, but they've even picked up on things I've missed."_

"_Huh," _I said thoughtfully, trying to figure out how to work the conversation back to what I really wanted to be talking about. And since she brought up Bobby…what would he do? He'd try to walk her into it backwards. _"So do you really think I'll be able to get into the academy? I mean, in spite of what happened at Johns Hopkins."_

"_You didn't do anything wrong."_

"_I was taking drugs."_

"_You weren't charged with any crime," _she said firmly. And then she paused for a minute before picking up a potato chip and saying quietly, _"Being investigated for a crime doesn't mean you did anything wrong."_

"_You sound like the voice of experience."_

"_I'm married to a cop, remember?" _she answered deftly.

"_Liz…"_

"_Jeremy, just ask if you want to know."_

So I did.

And she told me.

She used to date a drug dealer.

I tried to picture what Liz had been like at eighteen…broke, living in a rough neighborhood, living on her own because her parents had kicked her out at age seventeen…it was tough for me to imagine.

Although maybe her experience then is what makes her so easy to talk to now.

We talked for a while about her life back then…about Jeff and how he's in prison. She told me that pointedly, as though wanting to reassert the necessity for me to stay away from drugs.

I don't need her to tell me that.

She also told me how she'd mysteriously received the money that put her through college.

"_So you just left the city and went to school in Boston. Alone. I mean, you literally had no one,"_ I said in amazement.

"_I didn't even have me anymore," _she said. "_I legally changed my name and entered college as Elizabeth McFadden."_

"_Wow, that's so…I don't know. You were kind of like a spy. I mean, you gave yourself a whole new identity. And you never looked back?"_

"_Not for one second. And a couple of years later, I met Marcus."_

"_Your first husband."_

"_First and second,"_ she said with a smile.

"_You must have really loved him to marry him twice. What happened?"_

"_The first time was all me. The second time….well, let's just say it was largely due to a young blonde with fake boobs,"_ she answered, rolling her eyes dramatically.

"_Ah_," I said with a nod. "_Yeah, they do tend to trip a guy up from time to time."_

She laughed at me and then ruffled my hair with her hand. She likes to do that, and even though it makes me feel about ten, I like it when she does it, too.

"_I need to get back to work,"_ she told me. "_But thanks for lunch. This was nice."_

I cleaned up our mess while she headed back to the autopsy table, pulling gloves on as she walked.

Her mood was definitely better than it was before, so I gave myself a mental pat on the back and then headed for the door.

"_Hey, Liz,"_ I called out just before I left.

"_Yeah?"_

"_I heard Lupo mention that some of them are getting together at Steve-O's tonight. Are you and Dad going?"_

"_Probably. Why?"_

"_I was wondering if I can tag along."_

Which is how I ended up here, sitting at a fairly large table in Steve-O's restaurant/bar.

It was me and Liz and Dad, along with Lupo and his wife, and some kid who looks younger than me, but he ordered a beer so he must be at least a little older.

Then there were two of the US Marshals that I met earlier at 1PP, McInnis and Dunn.

Oh, and a lawyer named Cutter, who looked like he'd been in a bar fight.

I was slightly disappointed that Bobby and Alex hadn't come, but someone said they'd gone to Boston with the Logans.

"So dude, check it," the kid was saying. Mulder, I guess it is, although I can't imagine that being anyone's real name. "I did the digits, right? I was shaking in my Timbs, but then I'm like yippee ki yay, man, just freaking _do_ it, so I did, and the guy was all bad-ass cool, you know? Not like you, McClane, but still…major black ops cool."

He paused and took a sip of his drink and I found myself staring slack-jawed at him.

I glanced over at Lupo, who was sitting next to him, and he looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"McClane?" I questioned, since Mulder had nodded at Lupo when he said it.

"Die Hard," he said.

"Oh."

"So he made you an offer?" Liz asked him.

"Major freaking greenage, right?"

"When do you start?" my dad questioned.

"Wait, so this is about a job?" I asked.

Cutter laughed and said, "It's good to know that it's not just an age thing. Deciphering him, I mean. But yeah, he got an offer from the FBI."

"Doing what?"

"Mulder's a computer genius," Connie explained.

"Not genius," Mulder argued. "And dude, I'm in yo-yo mode, right?"

"Agent Stern emailed the official offer," Lupo said. "Mulder and I are going to look over it tonight."

Mulder focused on his beer again and I couldn't help but stare at him for another minute. He was an interesting individual, and I have to admit to feeling a little bit of jealousy.

An offer with the FBI?

I'd have said yes to that before the question was fully asked.

"That's pretty impressive," Dunn said. "For the Bureau to hire you without an official interview…"

"That's because he can hack any system," Lupo replied.

"Any system?" McInnis asked skeptically.

"Even the US Marshals," Mulder said with a grin. "You remember that, Lupo? That was some seriously cool shit."

"I remember."

"You hacked us?" Dunn asked in disbelief.

"Among other things," my dad said. "And I have to say, I'm kind of hoping Lupo finds something wrong with the Bureau offer."

"I don't think you can afford him," Connie said. "The feds were very generous."

"Hey, dude," Mulder said, and then he caught himself and said, "I mean, Chief. Like I told McClane…any time you need me to creep around behind enemy lines, I'm all over it. Like…like…"

"Owen Wilson?" I suggested since he was floundering. And I have no idea what he was planning to say, but his mention of behind enemy lines had me thinking about the movie, and I figured he was a movie buff since he was using the McClane reference.

"Dude! You know it, right?" he answered enthusiastically.

"I might have a little side job for you, if you're feeling up to it," Liz spoke up.

"Eames and Hayes aren't getting the job done?" my dad asked her quietly.

"They are. But they have to do it legally," she pointed out.

The two of them looked at each other for a minute, and so I shifted my focus to the other end of the table, in case they wanted to have a private discussion about something.

Mulder did the same, starting up a dialogue with Connie, so I figured I'd find out what the marshals were up to.

"The van was a good pick-up," McInnis was saying to Cutter.

"Does it help?"

"Maybe. We'll know more tomorrow, but let's just say it's definitely broadened the scope."

"You're helping them on a case?" I asked him.

"You could say that," he replied.

"He's helping a _lot_," Dunn corrected as she looked purposefully at Cutter.

And since he was next to me, and we were both looking down the table towards her, I was almost getting the full force of her gaze, and let me tell you…I think Cutter must be a lucky man.

Because I was reading her expression loud and clear.

And she's _really_ pretty.

Not Hayes pretty, but still…she's also got this cool accent that kind of adds to the total package, not to mention the fact that she's a freaking marshal which means she must be able to whip some serious ass.

But at the moment, I was pretty sure ass-whipping wasn't on her mind.

Because it seemed to me like things were being said without any words being spoken at all.

And it wasn't just me, either. I saw McInnis look at Dunn quizzically and then he jumped into the conversation with Lupo, so I shifted away from Cutter and took a sip of my Coke, feeling strangely alone.

It's not like I was the odd man out at the table. McInnis and Mulder were here alone, too.

But I couldn't help but think about Kelly, wishing she was here with me.

Although realistically, it would be impossible.

If what happened to Kelly _hadn't_ happened, then I wouldn't be here. I'd still be at JHU. I'd very probably still be doing drugs and partying every weekend.

I can't help but feel conflicted about that realization.

"So _that's_ what this is about?" I heard my dad say, his surprise cutting through my melancholy thoughts.

"I'm full of surprises, aren't I?" Liz replied with heavy sarcasm.

"So whoever this is…they think…"

"Uh huh."

"Okay, yeah. Let's ask Mulder. But you know, you could've told me."

"Danny," she said on a sigh. "Who would believe a ridiculous story like that?"

"Me," he said firmly. "Because you don't lie."

_Unless she's providing her stepson with an alibi_, I thought. And then I felt guilty for eavesdropping even though they were having the discussion at a table full of people.

My guilt multiplied when I heard her whisper, "I love you. You've been so…incredible through all of this."

Her words filled me with pride in my father. As much as I give him a hard time about being a moron, he's obviously not since a woman as great as Liz loves him so much.

When my dad didn't respond, I finally turned to look at them, and I saw why he wasn't talking to her.

Because he was kissing her.

The sight instantly took me back to Sunday morning when I'd walked in on the two of them…never in my wildest dreams had I given any consideration to the idea that my father actually still has sex.

I mean, the man's in his fifties.

But there they were, on the kitchen counter, of all places.

I've never moved as fast as I did that morning, when I turned around and went back into the living room.

I figured things would be awkward for days, and that maybe Liz would be ticked at me for just walking into the house, but I heard them laughing in the kitchen, and then when they finally came into the living room, they were both really cool about it.

I'm actually pretty lucky to have both of them.

"So, Mulder," Liz began. "If you have the time for a little side job, I could use your help."

"You mentioned something about legalities, Doctor," Cutter said. "Should I leave the table?"

I thought he sounded like he had a stick up his ass, but then he smiled and some of the others started chuckling, and I realized he was only kidding.

"If you have to leave, then I think so does most everyone else," Lupo said.

"No one needs to go anywhere," my dad said. "We just need him to hack into the Office of Vital Statistics for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts."

"Oh, is that all?" Mulder asked. "Parcheesi, man. Does anyone have a laptop? I mean, shit, dude. That's like…like…not even Parcheesi. More like…like…"

"Easy?" I supplied, since once again he seemed to be struggling.

"Dude! I'm losing my ability to metaphorize, right? I mean, shit," he said, but he was grinning.

"So you can do it," Liz said.

"I'd be done right now if I had my Mac, you know what I'm saying?"

"Great, so…when you get home tonight?"

"I'll jump the wall and slip all through that shit. What do you need?"

"I need you to find a birth certificate from 1981. I don't know the name of the child, but the mother's name is Elizabeth Chambers."

Holy shit.

Liz had a baby?

I even asked her once about why she never had kids, and she didn't give me any indication that she _did_ have one.

I looked at her in shock for a minute, but then it hit me.

"Wait, Elizabeth Chambers?"

"That's right," she said with a nod. She met my gaze, but she didn't say anything more. It was like she was waiting to see what I'd get when I put two and two together.

"You didn't go to Massachusetts until you went to school."

"Uh huh."

"And you'd already changed your name."

"You're going to make a great detective one of these days," she said with an approving smile.

"A better one than me, apparently, because I'm completely lost," Lupo said.

"I gave my old ID to my college roommate. She was pregnant and didn't want to tell her family. She planned to give it up for adoption, a closed one, so when she had the baby, she put my name on the birth certificate."

"And that's who's been calling you?"

"I think so, yes. I think it's that girl's child, looking for her mother."

TBC...


	38. Chapter 38

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

><p>Casey O'Grady.<p>

That's who O'Connor thinks is Mike's father.

"_I don't have proof, but I knew it the first time I laid eyes on you_," he said after ordering the bartender to bring us all a second round.

"_You didn't say anything_," I said, only sounding slightly accusatory.

"_Wasn't my place to say,_" he replied in understanding. "_You were all in a spot of trouble, and if you had an in with me, you would've used it, so I guessed that you didn't know."_

"_Tell me about him,_" Mike said quietly.

I was having trouble gauging his response to the news.

Ever since O'Connor first came to sit with us, Mike hasn't said much.

"_You're searching for someone_," O'Connor said ambiguously when he joined us. "_That's why you sent the old man up here."_

"_Is that what he told you?"_

"_Not in so many words, but I know how to put the pieces together."_

"_And that's why you invited me up?_" Mike asked.

"_Aye. __**You,**__ my boy_," he said, eyeballing the rest of us.

"_Carolyn's my wife_," Mike reminded him firmly as he took hold of my hand. "_And I don't keep secrets from Bobby and Alex, so anything you have to say to me can be said in front of them."_

"'_Tis okay by me, to be sure,"_ O'Connor agreed quickly. "_I'm just trying to show some discretion, if you get my meaning."_

"_So you know something about it?"_

"_I believe I know who it is you're hoping to find."_

And that's when he tossed out the name Casey O'Grady.

"_He and my brother were thick as thieves_," O'Connor said. "_Like real brothers, only without the same blood. You get what I'm saying, to be sure."_

Mike's gaze flickered over to Bobby for a minute and then he nodded his head.

His hand gripped mine tighter since the implication was clear.

O'Grady was a mobster.

_But maybe he's a nice mobster_, I thought. _Please be a nice mobster._

"_My brother, Ian…he and Casey, they each ran the city twenty years ago."_

"_Your brother must be considerably older than you,"_ Alex commented. "_You can't be more than…what, fifty?"_

"_Fifty-five," _O'Connor corrected with a grin. "_But I'll be thanking you for your kindness. And yes, Ian has me by six years."_

"_So he's sixty-one."_

"_He would be, God rest his soul."_

"_My condolences,"_ I said quickly. "_And Casey?"_

"_Same as Ian. Those two were connected at the hip since grammar school."_

Sixty-one.

Which would've made him sixteen when Mike was born.

And how old was Shannon at the time?

She'd listed her age as twenty-two on Mike's birth certificate, but we'd learned a few months ago that she'd lied about her age, knocking five years off the truth.

Which means she was twenty-seven when he was born.

So in addition to everything else that hateful woman did, she also slept with a teenager.

Well, assuming that O'Connor's theory is true.

"_You said you knew it right away,_" I said to O'Connor. "_How?"_

"_Well, 'tis his eyes,_" the mobster replied with a firm nod. "_They're the same, to be sure. But it's something else, too. Something not so easy to put my finger on, mind you, but it's there all the same."_

"_So you know him well_," Mike stated thoughtfully.

"_**Knew**__ him well, my boy. I'm sorry to say that he passed on last summer_."

So not just a mobster, but a dead mobster.

Was it really wrong for me to hope that this would've turned out differently? Didn't I deserve to have at least one prayer answered?

Doesn't _Mike_ deserve it?

"_I guess a short life span comes with the territory_," Mike said ruefully.

"_Oh, you're thinking he was a mobster, is that it? Because he was friends with the likes of Ian O'Connor, then he must be the same? You should know better than to be so presumptuous, my boy. You're a detective, after all."_

"_So he didn't help with the family business?"_

"_He was a cop,_" O'Connor stated with something that sounded like pride. "_And I owe him my life. And since I can't repay the debt to him, then I'll pay it to you."_

Which explained why we got the red carpet treatment in Hell's Kitchen earlier today.

And why O'Connor was so intent on watching out for Mike.

He went on to tell us everything he knew about O'Grady, and it was after ten when we left for the heliport.

Johnny had contacted Alex via text to let her know that he was coming up empty, so she replied and told him to pull everything he could find on Casey O'Grady.

We wouldn't be able to do a DNA test to confirm it, but maybe we'd get lucky and Johnny would at least find something to put Casey and Shannon together during the time in question.

But with or without additional proof, I was sure of it, mostly because O'Connor was so sure.

"_He had a son_," he told us. "_He admitted it to me on his deathbed. He told me it was his one regret in life was that he never got to know his own son. And then a couple of months later, I met you and I just knew, because you're him. And you could tell me you have videotaped evidence of your conception, and I still wouldn't believe that your father is any man other than Casey O'Grady."_

"_Well, I don't have that,"_ Mike said, smiling despite the seriousness of the topic.

"_Thank God,"_ I added.

"What are you thinking?" Bobby asked Mike as we buckled our seatbelts in the chopper.

"I'm thinking my mother had sex with an underage kid."

"Yeah, we know about her," I said soothingly. "What do you think about the rest of it?"

"I guess I need to see what Johnny finds. But O'Connor sure loved him. Of course, he's a mobster…"

"And O'Grady was a cop," Alex reminded him.

"A cop who knew he had a kid and never made any effort to find him. I mean, me."

"You don't know that he didn't," I pointed out.

"You think Shannon would've passed up the opportunity to pawn me off?"

"I think that O'Grady wouldn't have come looking until he was a grown man. By that time, you were important to your mother. She needed you to be the object of her anger."

"That's true," he said quietly. "I just…I don't want to think about it too much until we hear what Johnny finds out."

We went back to New York in virtual silence, mostly because it's difficult to talk over the noise of the chopper.

Once we were back in the city, we got in the car and drove to Brooklyn. Bobby and Alex were staying with us, but they needed to pick up a few things from their place, so Mike parked the car outside of their building.

"Should I leave it idling, or are you going to try to knock out a quickie while you're upstairs?" Mike teased.

Bobby rolled his eyes, but Alex looked thoughtful for a moment and then she grinned and said, "You might want to go ahead and cut it off."

"Uh huh," I joked. "Good. Go ahead and get it out of the way so that we don't have to listen to you later."

"Give us five minutes," Bobby said.

"Five minutes? I'm disappointed," I told him.

"To get our stuff," he asserted. He turned around and found Alex looking at him with a raised eyebrow, and then he looked back at us and added, "Okay, maybe ten minutes."

"Fifteen," Alex corrected.

"Oh my God," Mike muttered. "Go!"

Alex closed the door and followed Bobby into their building, so I turned to Mike and waited until he met my gaze.

"What?" he asked me.

"Are you okay?"

"It's a lot to take in," he admitted. "And we're still making a lot of assumptions. And I'm not sure what I think about it."

* * *

><p><strong>Bobby POV<strong>

"Are you sure we need to do a sleepover?" Alex asked as we went up in the elevator. "Because I really like our bed."

"So do I," I agreed. "But…"

"Yeah, I know," she said quietly. "It's not worth the risk. It's just…how many times are we going to find ourselves in this situation?"

"In the crosshairs of the Albanian mafia? Hopefully not very many."

She chuckled, and I was glad to hear it.

No matter what our situation, the important thing is that we're together. There's no need in getting stressed out over things beyond our control.

I spent too much of my life doing exactly that.

I'm not going to do it anymore.

Or at least, not if I can help it.

"So who do you really think is after Christina? Demachi or Rama?"

"Both," I answered.

"One wants to kill her and one wants to bring her in safely?"

"Uh huh. Well, maybe. I'm basing my assumption on the idea that Christina's telling the truth, so…"

"Yeah, that's fifty-fifty."

"Right."

By this point, we were inside our apartment, and despite our teasing about having a quickie, I wasn't exactly in the mood.

I've got too much on my mind, and it'll take me a while to unwind.

"Hurry up. Fifteen minutes, remember?" Alex called out to me as she went down the hall.

"You were being serious?" I asked her.

"You weren't?" she replied coyly, tossing her shirt behind her as she went into the bedroom.

I started down the hall, and then stopped abruptly as something jumped to the front of my mind.

I struggled to grasp onto whatever little detail was trying to make itself known, but the harder I thought about it, the more it escaped me.

But something's not right.

"Bobby?"

The apartment door was locked when we got home.

The lobby door was, too.

I retraced my steps and went towards the front of the apartment.

Nothing seemed amiss.

I stood still and listened intently, but all was quiet.

"Bobby?" Alex called out again.

"Coming."

"No, you're not. That's the problem."

"Are you serious?" I asked her again, finally relaxing and heading down the hall.

I was being paranoid.

It was just time to pack up and get out.

"No," she admitted as I entered the bedroom. She'd changed into more comfortable clothes and she was throwing a few things into a duffle bag. "Do you really think I'm so bad that we have to do it while our friends are waiting in the car downstairs?"

"You're so bad that we did it in the coat closet at their house while our boss was one floor above us," I reminded her, wrapping my arms around her.

"That was your fault," she teased.

"My fault?"

"Uh huh. I was so consumed with jealousy over Denise I couldn't think straight."

"And are you still jealous of poor misguided Denise?"

"Not remotely."

"Damn, I was hoping for a repeat performance in the coat closet."

"Ha ha. Get your stuff together."

I went to the dresser and started pulling out some essentials while she moved into the bathroom.

"Where's that other duffle bag?" I asked.

"I think it's still on the kitchen chair," she answered. "I never unpacked it from the last time."

"I'll go get it."

I hustled down the hall in search of the duffle bag, and I found it just where she'd said. As I picked it up and started back towards the bedroom, I once again was hit with that sixth sense.

It's _some_thing.

I did a one-eighty and moved quickly towards the front door.

As I approached, I could see that it was unlocked.

Had I left it like that?

Probably.

We'd only come in to grab a few things. Who locks up tight for a five-minute stay?

_Me_, I thought.

Or at least, I should've.

I reached out to flip the deadbolt, and that's when I saw the knob start to turn.

At the same time, I remembered what my brain was trying to show me.

A van was parked down the alley next to our building.

It might've been a cable van, but I can't say for sure. I'd only seen it in passing as Mike drove by, but still…I should've looked more closely, just to be on the safe side.

I dropped the bag and reached for my gun while simultaneously trying to throw the deadbolt into place, but I was too slow.

The door came flying open, the edge of it catching me in the forehead.

"Alex!" I yelled out in warning as the man on the other side bull-rushed me, using an M-16 like a billy stick.

Once to the side of the head.

Twice.

I was back-pedaling and trying to get the safety off of my weapon, and then came the third blow.

I think I called out Alex's name again as I found myself hurtling towards the floor.

_This is how Cutter felt_, was the thought that came unbidden while I lay sprawled on the floor unable to move.

Everything had happened in the course of about five seconds.

Had she even heard me?

What if she had the water running?

"Alex!" I shouted as loud as I could, but I felt a kick in my side that knocked the breath from me, and I couldn't even finish saying her name.

And then came the blow to the back of my head that sent me into a world of darkness.

TBC...


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N: My apologies to makeup addict004, who specifically asked for me NOT to cut away from the action at the Gorens'. However, that just wouldn't be my style, would it? Instead, I thought this might be a good time to delve into the mind of Mike Cutter. Hopefully everyone will like it enough to forgive me for the continued cliffhanger.**

* * *

><p><strong>Cutter POV<strong>

* * *

><p>"So…Abilene. How long have you been in the city?"<p>

"Almost five years. You?"

"I've spent my whole life in and around the city. I grew up in New Jersey, but…I'm sorry," I said self-consciously. "You didn't ask for my life story, did you?"

I looked over at Jennifer Dunn, who was in turn looking towards the bar at McInnis.

"I think we've got time," she said once she was facing me again. "He's just getting warmed up."

I glanced over at the marshal, who was now taking a seat on the bar stool next to a thirty-something brunette.

"So you've seen his routine?" I asked in amusement.

"He tried it on me," she admitted with a grin. "I guess he has a thing for brunettes."

"So you two dated?"

"Oh, no," she said, chuckling as she shook her head. "I only said he _tried_. I didn't say it _worked_."

"You saw through it?"

"I don't date colleagues," she corrected. Then she added, "And yeah, I saw through it. He's a nice enough guy, but not my type."

"I'm afraid to ask what that would be," I said as I finished off the rest of my beer. Considering her line of work, my guess was cops or firefighters or some other equally high-octane job.

And although I didn't actually expect a response from her, I got one anyway.

"You should be," she said ambiguously.

She held my gaze for a moment and then she waved the waitress over to our table and ordered us another round.

It was just the two of us by this point.

As I mentioned, McInnis was making a play for a girl at the bar.

Ross and Rodgers left, along with Ross' son, about an hour ago.

Her need for Mulder to hack the Vital Records system in Massachusetts doesn't bother me at all. I can appreciate that sometimes rules need to be circumvented. Just because I'm an EADA doesn't mean I'm rigid or unfeeling.

She has an issue that needs to be sorted out, and obviously someone else already hacked their system, which is how she was tracked down to the extent that she was, so really, turnabout is fair play.

Lupo and Connie left with Mulder not long after. Mulder was anxious to get home and fire up his laptop, and the three of them were going to look over the Bureau's employment offer.

I'm amazed by Mulder's quick recovery, as well as his excitement about getting into the working world and his commitment to helping out anyone in the group with his computer skills.

His social development has increased tremendously in the short time that I've known him and I have to credit that to Lupo.

Lupo.

Sometimes it's tough to take, being bested.

Okay, that's not true.

For me, it's _always_ tough to take, and losing Connie to Lupo was extraordinarily difficult.

Because for the longest time, I just assumed that eventually, she and I would fall into bed together.

But more than that, I assumed we'd have a relationship.

So when I found out that she was dating Lupo…was _engaged_ to him…I'll admit it.

It was a crushing blow.

I felt bitter about it at first, angry at Connie for what I felt was a slight.

How could she go looking somewhere else when I was _right_ there?

And to let the cat out of the bag the way she did…kissing him in front of me…

I was so close to finding a way to transfer her out of my office.

But I'm not that kind of guy.

And after a long night with a bottle of Dewar's, I realized that she'd been _trying_ to tell me…she'd mentioned that she was seeing someone, and I ignored her words and instead kept pressing the issue.

So maybe she thought that seeing would be believing.

And it definitely was.

I'd stared at her kissing him until that image was burned into my brain, and I instantly hated Lupo because he had what I wanted.

But as the weeks passed, I realized I was being juvenile.

Lupo hadn't taken Connie away from me.

She was never mine to begin with.

So I found a way to stop showing false kindness and instead started appreciating Lupo for what he is – someone honest who works hard, and more importantly, he loves Connie and treats her well, and he makes her very happy.

"Lawyers."

"What?" I asked, realizing that my mind had wandered at a seemingly crucial point in our conversation.

"My type," Jennifer said. "Lawyers."

She rolled her eyes as though thoroughly annoyed with herself, and then took a sip of the fresh drink that the waitress had just set down.

"Have you been to therapy for that?" I asked her.

"For what?" she asked, and now it was her turn to be confused.

"Your unhealthy interest in attorneys. Because you have to know by now that we're all arrogant assholes who can't ever stand to be wrong."

She laughed, nodding her head enthusiastically as she sat back in the chair.

"Now see, that's not a statement I would've expected to hear from a lawyer. You guys are supposed to be narcissistic."

"Only the good ones."

"From what I hear, you are a good one."

"Really," I asked with interest. "And what is it that you heard?"

"DA's office rising star," she stated as though she was quoting something she'd read somewhere. "Next in line behind Jack McCoy. One of the youngest to ever hold the title of EADA."

"You checked me out."

"I did," she admitted. Then she stopped smiling and added, "Well, you know…I had to. I mean…"

"Yeah," I answered, sorry that I'd pushed the topic. "Because of the case."

"How are you doing with that?"

"You mean with feeling emasculated because I didn't do anything to protect Anna from getting hurt?"

"Mr. Cutter…"

"Seriously?" I interrupted, feeling suddenly irritated. "You've googled me. You've interviewed me. Twice, actually. And now we've been sitting together for hours, the last of which we've been alone, and you can't call me Mike?"

"Why are you getting so angry?"

"I'm just…forget it," I said dismissively, realizing I was being a jerk.

My moods were all over the place. But can I help it if I was enjoying sitting here having a nice conversation with an attractive woman until I remembered it was just business for her?

"I don't want to forget it. And my point was just that you shouldn't feel like that about what happened. It wasn't your fault."

"No, but I didn't help things much, either, did I?"

My cell phone rang, and I glanced down at it to see that it was Connie.

"I need to take this," I told her, and then I got up from the table and headed down the back hall and out the fire exit.

"What is it?" I answered tersely.

"Is everything okay?"

"Sure, it's great. What do you need?"

"Mike…"

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes as I leaned against the brick wall in the alley.

What the hell was my problem?

I practically took Jennifer's head off just because she called me by my last name.

She'd insisted on me using her first name, earlier today when she came to my office, but did I return the courtesy? I'm pretty sure I didn't.

Instead, I just sat there, saying her name in my head for a minute before pushing forward with the Q and A session.

So she was being professional and respectful.

And I was being an ass.

"I'm fine, Connie," I said. "What can I do for you?"

"I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Bernard called. He and Lauren visited Flowers, and he openly admitted that he tried to kill her."

"Did you tell Bernard to come by tomorrow so that we can take his official statement?"

It wouldn't be the kill-shot since Bernard's statement could be challenged, considering he's the victim's boyfriend, but still…they'd gone on the visit as civilians, not cops.

And they're not the investigating detectives, Benson is.

So the fact that Flowers didn't have his attorney present was irrelevant.

Statements he made during their visit could be admitted as witness testimony.

"Yes. He said he hadn't considered that anything would be admissible, but that he'll come by first thing."

"Good. It'll be even more plausible once he states that he didn't go in there with the intention of getting a confession. Find out what Benson came up with and see if we can put this whole mess to bed."

"I will."

"So he just came right out and said _I did it_?" I asked, as I relaxed against the wall.

I was definitely going to have to go inside and apologize to Jennifer, but for now, I needed to make sure that Hayes was okay.

"Bernard wasn't specific about the whole conversation, but he did say that Flowers admitted that he pulled the trigger but the gun jammed."

"And Detective Hayes? She's alright?"

Because how must that make her feel knowing that she was at the mercy of someone who wanted her dead?

That she _would_ be dead if not for a weaponry malfunction?

"Well, she took a couple of swings at him, but Bernard made sure that she's covered."

"I don't think I should hear about that," I said with a smirk. "I mean emotionally…she's okay?"

"Yeah," she replied, and it sounded like she was surprised by my concern.

Really? Do I seem that cold?

"Good. Okay, well, come find me when Bernard gets there in the morning. I'd like to sit in on it when you get his statement."

"Of course."

"Oh, and thank you," I added. "For inviting me tonight, I mean."

"You're always invited. So you got home okay?"

"I'm…actually still here," I said.

The back door opened and I turned to see who was joining me in the alley.

Jennifer.

I should've guessed.

"Connie, I need to go," I said before she could respond. "I'll see you in the morning."

I didn't wait for her goodbye, but instead, I hung up the phone and put it into my pants pocket.

"I'm sorry for earlier," I said immediately. "I guess you can tell it's still bugging me. Maybe _I'm_ the one who needs therapy."

"You mean instead of me, for liking lawyers?" she asked, and as she spoke, she took a step closer to me.

And there it was, the look she gave me earlier when the table was still filled with people.

I can't even remember exactly what we'd been talking about then, but I know that when I looked at her, she had this expression on her face that made me stop and stare.

And hold my breath, which is what I found myself doing again as she moved even closer until she was standing directly in front of me.

"Mike," she said softly. "Anna was a marshal. And she made her share of mistakes. I don't mean to say that she deserved what happened to her, but still…she didn't expect or need for you to protect her."

"I know, but…I'm the _guy_," I said with a shrug, trying to force myself to be casual and ignore the fact that I was focused on the color of her eyes, which were an interesting shade of blue that for some reason made me think of my childhood summers spent on Lake Erie.

Gray, almost. Steel gray.

They were at once hard and soft, and while I watched her, her face transformed with amusement.

"The guy?" she questioned with a smirk. "Okay, maybe. But you know sounds kind of antiquated, right?"

"Maybe I'm an old-fashioned kind of guy."

"Huh. Then tell me, Mike. How do you feel about women who make the first move?"

And then she kissed me.

And even though I kind of saw it coming, it was still unexpected.

I think it was more my lack of self-confidence that made it a surprise because I was reading her signals and yet I was so sure that I had to be wrong.

And it's not that I typically have trouble getting a woman.

I don't.

Well, unless you count Connie.

But still…this woman has seen me at my worst, and yet for some reason, she still felt the urge to kiss me.

And I'm not complaining.

In fact, once my initial shock wore off, I put a little more effort into it, pulling her into my arms and upping the stakes.

Until she abruptly pulled away.

"Oh, I'm…wow, I'm sorry," she said quickly as she extricated herself from my embrace.

"Why?"

"Because we were talking about Anna. But I just…I couldn't stop myself, and that was really, _really_ inappropriate of me, and…"

This time it was my turn to catch her off guard.

I interrupted her apology by covering her mouth with mine, and I'm not usually so forward, but if the only reason why she was backing off is because she's worried about my connection to Anna, well…she shouldn't worry.

I already told her about what went on between the two of us.

Very little, actually.

So while I could understand her hesitation, I was going to discourage it because it was unfounded.

Not to mention the fact that I really like kissing her.

And I like the way she smells.

And the silky feel of her hair when I slipped my hand up to the back of her head as I continued to kiss her.

And the feel of her hands on my back as she pulled me closer and deepened the kiss.

I finally broke it off, but only because we were standing in the back alley, mere feet away from an overflowing dumpster.

Well, that and because I was feeling the overwhelming desire to take her home with me, and that's not going to happen.

She's staying in a Witsec safe house with her two male team members.

And I'm an insignificant victim in her current case.

So we stood there, each of us temporarily speechless and breathless, and neither of us knowing just exactly what to say.

And that's when the back door opened.

"Dunn, what the hell are you doing out here?" McInnis asked as he eyeballed the alley critically before focusing his attention on me.

He stared at me hard and I had the insane fear that he would know just from looking at me that only moments ago I'd been kissing his fellow marshal like there's no tomorrow.

Although would he even care?

One look at his face told me that yes, he probably would.

"Mike had to take a call," she explained.

"And you?"

"What are you, my father?" she retorted. "What happened inside? Did you strike out with Jessica Alba?"

He flashed her a smile and then held up a piece of paper.

"Nope. And her name's Emily. I've got a date with her on Friday night. But it's getting late tonight, so I thought we should be heading back."

"Okay," she agreed, and I started to take a step towards the door, but then she said to him, "Go ahead and pay the tab and I'll be right there."

He nodded and then glanced at me one more time before going back inside. As soon as the door closed, Jennifer looked at me hesitantly.

"Is this where you say _thanks but no thanks_?" I asked her.

"No. It's just…probably not a good idea."

"Okay," I said lamely.

What was I going to do, argue with her about it? If she doesn't want me, then I can't make her. That was a newly-learned lesson still fresh in my mind, after my experience with Connie.

But no, this wasn't the same thing.

With Connie, it was all one-sided. And I've certainly never kissed her…never held her in my arms.

And damn it, Jennifer had kissed me back.

This _isn't_ one-sided.

"No, you know what?" I said as she started to open the door.

"What?"

"It's not okay. There's no reason for us not to see where this goes, unless you just tell me that you really don't want to."

"It's not that," she replied, turning to face me again. "It's just this case…and I know it's my fault for coming on to you. I should've shown better judgment. You're going through a difficult time right now."

"Everybody keeps telling me that," I retorted. "But that doesn't mean you have to treat me with kid gloves. Yes, you took the first step. But I took the second."

_And the third_, I added mentally as I leaned in to kiss her again.

I moved slowly so that she could stop me.

But she didn't.

I kept it light and fairly brief, but it wasn't innocent, and when I pulled back, she kept her eyes closed for a moment, and then she opened them slowly, settling those stormy eyes onto mine.

"So what is it that you want?" she asked me quietly.

"A date. McInnis has one Friday night, and now you do, too," I said boldly. "Let me take you out."

TBC...


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N: The bonus chapter today is for guitar73girl, and everyone else who silently or not so silently asked me to please get back to BA/MC.**

* * *

><p><strong>Logan POV<strong>

* * *

><p>"It's not exactly assumptions when we've got so much evidence to back it up," Carolyn said lightly in response to my hesitancy to believe.<p>

And she's got a point about that.

O'Connor said he clearly remembered Casey bragging about shagging a scrubber.

Scrubber.

That's slang for a woman with no morals, and if that doesn't fit Shannon then I don't know what does, and Johnny had already concluded that she spent some time in Boston during that time.

So there was that, and the fact that O'Grady said he had a son he never knew, and that I apparently have the same eyes as him.

_It got to the point where I had to see what it would take to make him cry. Beating him just didn't work, no matter how hard I tried. He'd just look at me with his father's eyes, and that would only piss me off even more._

That's what my mother told her nurse.

So what had O'Grady done to make her hate him so much?

Or was it just the fact that he'd gotten her pregnant? Because surely she'd see that as his fault alone, never mind that he was a kid, possibly as young as fifteen when I was conceived.

It's no secret that my mother didn't want me, and I don't take that personally. She didn't want John either. She wasn't cut out to be a parent, and the fact that she had two kids just further exemplifies how irresponsible she was.

But so Carolyn is right in that the evidence all points to Casey O'Grady.

According to O'Connor, Casey was a police officer for thirty-five years. He walked a beat in Charlestown for much of that time, and he was well-known and well-loved by cops and mobsters alike.

Which means he was a good man, right? He must have at least been an honest man, to have earned the respect of both cops and criminals.

But this whole thing was a lot to take in.

Because is that why my dad left?

John Logan, I mean.

I always considered him to be a coward for walking away, but was he okay with leaving me behind because he knew that I belonged to somebody else?

Maybe, maybe not.

Maybe he didn't know.

Just because that's what a social worker found written in forty-five year old case notes doesn't mean it's the truth.

So maybe he just left because he couldn't deal with her anymore and he decided that I wasn't worth fighting for.

Because my mother left my brother, so she probably would've given me to my dad if he'd wanted me.

Hell, she probably would've given me to Casey O'Grady when he was the ripe old age of sixteen.

What would my life have been like if I'd been raised in Boston? Would the addition of a child have kept Casey from becoming a cop? Maybe he would've joined his good friend Ian instead, in an effort to make enough money to give me a good life.

I could literally be the partner of Shane O'Connor right about now.

"Mike."

Which would mean I wouldn't be married to Carolyn.

"Hmm?" I replied vaguely.

"You don't want to talk about it?"

Do I?

No.

All of these _could have beens_ are making my head spin.

And wasn't this whole adventure more about just learning the truth rather than thinking about how my life might've been different?

So instead of answering her, I leaned across the console and kissed her.

"I love you," I told her, and then I reached down to unbuckle her seatbelt, and I pulled her into my arms. "I love you so much."

Headlights coming through the back window caused me to release my hold on her slightly as I looked back to see what the car behind us was up to.

A man got out and headed towards the building. He was wearing a long trench coat and steel-toed boots and he only paused for a moment at the buzzer panel before pushing one of the buttons.

"I don't remember seeing him around here before," I commented.

My cop radar was pinging, but only slightly. Mostly just because the guy was wearing a trench coat in May.

"It's a big building," Carolyn replied. We watched as the lobby door opened, and she added, "It looks like he got right in."

Which was true. Normally it takes more than one buzzer to get rung into a building where you don't belong. Unless you're just lucky.

The vehicle behind me finally pulled away, but it only went up to the next block, and then it turned down the side street.

"What did that say on the side?" I asked her.

"I couldn't read it. What are you thinking?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted.

I stared blankly ahead for a moment, at the space where I'd last seen the taillights of the van before it turned the corner, and then I felt Carolyn's hand run over the back of my head.

"I think we were in the middle of something," she said with a smile.

"Yeah, I guess we were," I agreed. I turned towards her, getting ready to kiss her again, and that's when I heard it.

A gunshot.

Or at least, that's what it sounded like, but it was hard to say for sure.

"Was that…" Carolyn began, and since she was questioning it, too, I felt more confident about what I'd heard.

"Maybe," I said. I grabbed the keys from the ignition and we both got out of the car.

Once we were outside, we heard it again.

And again.

And again.

"It is," Carolyn confirmed as we both took off running for the lobby doors. I quickly punched in the code and we drew our weapons as we entered the building.

Ordinarily, I wouldn't jump to the conclusion that it was coming from Bobby's floor, but considering this case, and that he wanted to stay in a hotel tonight…it had to be them.

Three more shots rang out as Carolyn and I flew up the four flights of stairs, our footsteps pounding out echoing thuds in the otherwise suddenly eerily quiet building.

* * *

><p><strong>Alex POV<strong>

I was in the bathroom washing my face when I heard the noise.

It was indistinctive, and was just enough to make me pause with the washcloth in my hand and soap still covering my face.

"Bobby?"

I leaned back and looked into the bedroom, but he hadn't come back yet with the duffle.

His lack of response didn't concern me too much because he's been lost in his thoughts quite a bit lately.

I quickly scrubbed the washcloth over my face, and then shut off the water.

We needed to get out of this apartment so that Bobby could relax without the fear that someone was going to come after us.

I'm not sure why he feels so strongly about the idea that we'll be next on the list, but he does, and I'm not going to argue with him about it.

I dried my hands and face and then moved back into the bedroom where I finished shoving items into the duffle and then I tugged on the sides of it so that I could zip it up.

"Bobby, come on," I prompted. "Mike's going to think…"

The sight of a man in the bedroom doorway nearly made my heart stop beating.

"Put your hands up and move away from the bed," he said as he pointed his rifle at me.

I couldn't move.

My brain was scrambling to process what might've happened to Bobby.

There's no way the sound I heard was a gunshot, and the rifle that was currently aimed at my chest didn't have a silencer on it…so at the worst, Bobby was knocked unconscious, right?

_Right_?

And really, it made sense that he was, because otherwise he'd be in here trying to talk the man into pointing the gun at him instead of me.

And that's when it hit me why Bobby was afraid they'd come after us.

Because they'd want to come after me.

They were deeming the women as less threatening.

A more viable way to get the information they needed.

They went after Anna.

They went to Dunn's house.

And now they're at mine.

"I'm not going to say it again," he said gruffly.

If I followed his orders, then I'd be taken hostage.

I'd be beaten in an effort to retrieve information about the whereabouts of Christina.

And ultimately, I'd be killed because the man wasn't making any effort to hide his face.

So instead of following his directive, I eased my hand into the still-open duffle bag, now grateful that the zipper had hung up when I was trying to close it.

Because that's where I put my gun.

"What do you want?" I asked him, hoping to buy myself a little bit of time.

"Don't play dumb. Just move away from the bed."

He brought his rifle up a little higher so that he was aiming at my head.

Most people think that's worse than having one pointed at your chest, but it's not. The chest is center mass. It's tough to move one way or the other without still getting shot. The head would give me the opportunity to duck.

Or at least, that was my plan.

A rush of adrenaline surged through me as my hand finally brushed up against the butt of my pistol.

Now, it's not ideal to shoot through the holster, but if I took the time to try to get it out, he'd catch on to what I was doing.

So instead, I pulled it out, holster and all, and as I dove towards the floor, I fired off a shot in his general vicinity.

"You fucking bitch," he called out and I couldn't see him, but it sounded like I'd made him dive for cover, so I stayed down on my hands and knees and crawled into the bathroom.

I slammed the door, quickly locking it before hopping into the shower stall, which would keep me out of the line fire.

"Where do you think you're gonna go, huh, bitch?" he shouted, and I could tell that he was now standing right outside the door. "I've got a fucking M-16, so either I blow this fucking door down or you start talking real quick about where I can get my hands on that fucking tramp."

It certainly didn't sound like the tone of a man searching for the mother of his child. Of course, I hadn't actually expected to come face to face with Demachi himself.

This was undoubtedly yet another one of his minions.

Or possibly one of Rama's minions.

_Whoever he is, he's going down_, I thought as I tossed the holster to the shower stall floor and then took aim at the door. _So come on in. I've got a .45 with your name on it._

My mind flashed on Bobby again, but I couldn't think about him right now.

I could only pray that my deductions are right, and that any minute he'll come to, and I know that if I let this SOB kill me, then Bobby will never forgive himself.

Suddenly the bathroom door splintered as shots rang out, and then the man kicked the door in and entered the bathroom.

He glanced around, almost as though he was surprised that I wasn't just standing there waiting to be shot, and that's when I pulled the trigger.

I caught him in the shoulder, and he tried to raise the rifle as he spun around to face me, so I fired again.

I didn't want him dead because I wanted to question him, but he wouldn't let go of that damn rifle and considering we were now only about three feet apart, I had no hope of him missing me if he managed to get off another shot.

So I fired one last time.

As he dropped to the floor, the rifle clanked to the ground next to him, and for at least a solid second, I stood there staring at my blood-spattered bathroom and the dead man on the rug.

And then I forced myself into action.

As I grabbed the rifle up from the floor and checked the man for a pulse, I heard Carolyn's voice call out, "Bobby!"

"Check him!" was Mike's response, and I could hear that he was moving down the hall. "Alex!"

"I'm in here!" I shouted back as I confirmed the fact that my attacker was dead. "Bobby?"

"He's okay!" Carolyn called out.

I took a deep unsteady breath before getting back to my feet and I turned around to find Mike in the bathroom doorway.

"Holy shit," he muttered.

"You can say that again," I said.

I handed him the rifle and my pistol and then went down the hall on shaky legs to find Bobby.

TBC...


	41. Chapter 41

**Ross POV**

* * *

><p>"I stole a balloon from the drug store."<p>

"And?"

"I lied to my third grade teacher."

"And?"

"Well, you know about my stint as a pickpocket."

"You always gave the wallets back, though, right?"

"Always."

"Okay, what else?"

Liz and I were presently on the couch together.

It was fairly late…nearing midnight, I guess. The room was dark and the balcony door was open, allowing the sounds of the city to surround us as we sat comfortably together.

We arrived home about an hour ago, and Jeremy had promptly disappeared into the kitchen.

"_What's up with him_?" Liz asked me.

"_I don't know_."

A couple of minutes later, he was back in the living room carrying two glasses of what I could only guess was Jack Daniels.

"_Neither of those better have your name on it_," Liz teased as he held one out to her.

"_I'm only nineteen_," he said with a grin. "_I'm not allowed to drink yet._"

"_Uh huh_," I replied dubiously.

He handed me the other glass and then he looked back and forth between Liz and me for a moment before saying, "_I'm going up to my room. I won't be down until breakfast."_

And then to my surprise, he hugged me goodnight.

"_Thanks for letting me come with you guys. It was fun. I like that Mulder guy_."

"_Me, too_," Liz agreed as she accepted Jeremy's hug. "_Just don't pick up his vernacular, okay?'_

"_Yeah, because dude, that would be some seriously freaky shit, right?_" he quipped.

Liz erupted into laughter and then she gently shoved Jeremy in the direction of the stairwell.

"_Goodnight_," she told him.

"_I'll see you in the morning_," he replied as he went up the stairs. "_And not a minute sooner."_

"_You think he's trying to tell us we have free rein to get naked in the living room?"_ Liz asked in amusement once he was gone.

"_He fixed us drinks and he's making himself scarce…yeah, I'd say he's encouraging us to have a little bit of __**us**__ time."_

"_I'm half-expecting the lights to dim at any moment."_

"_And maybe a little Barry White to start playing on the stereo?" _I teased.

She smiled, but only briefly, and then she said, _"He's still worried about us."_

"_Maybe."_

"_He shouldn't be."_

I tossed back the whiskey and then set my glass down before asking, _"Are you sure?" _

"_Am **I** sure? Absolutely. You're the one married to a woman who withheld quite a bit of information."_

She was still facing away from me, staring at the now-empty stairwell, so I went up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist.

"_Water under the bridge," _I told her.

"_Danny, you know it's not that simple."_

"_You want me to be mad at you because you gave your old ID to a friend to help her out of a difficult situation?"_

She turned in my arms, casting me a look that was both reproachful and remorseful.

"_No, but you should be mad because I didn't tell you. And you know, even when I got the phone calls this week, I didn't consider that. I just jumped right on the drug money incident…"_

"_Because you had a guilty conscience about it," _I pointed out_. "It's human nature."_

"_Yeah, but if I'd just thought about the ID thing, I could've avoided telling you about Jeff and Ricky," _she said with a wry smile.

"_You don't need to avoid telling me anything about yourself. So you were cheating on your boyfriend. Do you honestly think I care about that now? Or that I think that just because you did it then that you'll do it again_?"

"_A leopard can't change his spots,_" she said decisively, and then she drank the Jack down in one swallow.

"_Well, if that's how you feel, then I must still be the biggest asshole in the state of New York_."

She laughed and set her glass on the table before wrapping her arms tightly around me and burying her face in the crook of my neck.

"_I think that scope has narrowed somewhat_," she told me.

"_Am I down to being just the biggest asshole in Manhattan?"_

"_Smaller."_

"_This house,"_ I conceded with a grin.

"_Yeah, okay, I'll give you that. You're the biggest asshole in the entire Ross household_."

"_So, see? I changed my spots. And so have you. You're not a cheater, Liz. You're one of the most honest and ethical people I know. I have no doubt that if you run across someone you'd rather be with than me, you won't sneak around. You'll just come right out and tell me to hit the bricks_."

She pulled back and looked at me, her expression softening as she ran her hand over my cheek.

"_There's no one I'd rather be with than you. No one even comes close_."

"_Not even Jeff, the good-looking felon?"_

"_Who said he's good looking?"_

"_He convinced you to let him stash fifteen pounds of stolen cocaine in your apartment. It either has to be because he's extremely handsome or he's a stud in the bedroom, so I'm going with handsome."_

She smiled broadly at me, with her palm still against my face, and she said, "_He's attractive. But so are you. You know, you could probably talk me into just about anything, too."_

"_But that's the thing, Liz…I would never try."_

"_No. You wouldn't,_" she agreed.

She kissed me then, starting out tentatively as though maybe she was afraid I'd pull away, which is completely crazy and only further exemplifies the fact that Liz isn't back to being Liz just yet, because she's normally quite confident in this arena.

I slid my hands down her back and over her backside, pulling her closer to me as I deepened the kiss.

We were just together last night, and yet it felt like so much longer.

Maybe because of the distance she's been creating lately, I don't know.

But whatever the case, I was rapidly reaching the point of no return and yet we were still only kissing, standing in the living room, fully clothed.

"_Let's go upstairs_," I suggested as I moved my lips away from hers and instead started kissing her neck.

"_After Jeremy went through so much trouble to give us the room_?" she replied, tipping her head back to encourage me to continue my assault on her throat.

Trouble? He poured two shots and went upstairs.

But if Liz wants to stay down here, then I'm all for it.

"_And you know_," she continued as she started undoing the buttons on my shirt. "_Jeff wasn't a stud in the bedroom. He was just pretty to look at."_

"_Do I want to hear this_?" I asked, although I kind of did. Honestly, I want to know every little thing about her, good and bad.

"_I just want to make sure you've got the facts straight in your head_."

"_Okay…"_

"_Now Ricky…he was…"_ she trailed off and stopped unbuttoning long enough to meet my gaze. "_Definitely better than Jeff. But…"_

"_But what?"_

"_I was eighteen. I didn't know the meaning of the word stud."_

She dropped her eyes downward briefly and then undid the last button and pulled my shirt off of me.

"_And now?"_ I asked, assuming she was going somewhere with this thread of conversation…somewhere that I was going to like.

"_Now I do,"_ she finished simply.

And maybe her words were simple, but as she said them, she reached down and unhooked my pants before slowly lowering the zipper, maintaining eye contact with me as she pushed them down and then slid her hand inside the front of my boxers.

I was going to say something.

What, I have no idea, but _some_thing.

But the feel of her hand on me, combined with the poignancy of her words…it was actually all I could do to just breathe.

Well, that, and pray that Jeremy made good on his word, because catching us in the kitchen was one thing, but now…standing here in the middle of the room with her hand stroking over me…

I had to force that thought from my brain.

No way was I going to think about Jeremy while Liz was making me feel so good.

Although it was almost too good, if there is such a thing, and after a few minutes of unadulterated pleasure, I had to stop her.

I reached for her, kissing her hard while I worked to undo the knot in her pants string.

I suddenly felt desperate and harried, as though I literally couldn't wait another minute to get her out of her clothes, and yet at the same time, I didn't want to stop kissing her, even though it would help things progress more quickly.

It almost reminded me of our first time.

It was at her place, not mine, but we were in her living room, and I'd had just enough Jack Daniels to make me think it would be a good idea to kiss her.

Maybe that's why I love that Tennessee whiskey so much now, because without it, I'm not sure I would've been brave enough to take that step.

But once I did, I knew I had to have her.

And we got so caught up in kissing each other that we could barely stop long enough to get each other's clothes off.

Of course, not too long after that, I screwed everything up by…well, by being me.

It was only by the grace of God that I managed to win her back, and I was going to make damn sure that I never mess things up with her again.

My thoughts had caused my hands to falter, but then she reached into my boxers again, this time pushing them down until they fell to the floor, and I realized that I was completely naked while she was still fully clothed.

_So much for that stud descriptive_, I thought cynically as I gave myself an internal shake of the head.

Without breaking off our kiss, I blindly worked on the knot, wholly prepared for a struggle, but the fates were on my side as I quickly worked it out and then slid her pants down off her hips, and then I pulled back from her just long enough to get her top over her head, and then _at last_ I had her bare in front of me.

And let me tell you, Liz has a beautiful body.

She'll be the first to argue that point, but she really does, and I might be tempted to just stare at her all night if I weren't even more tempted to…do other things. I could stare later, after I do my best to live up to her expectations.

"_Tell me something_," she said to me as she stepped into me, walking me backwards towards the couch.

"_You're so beautiful_," I said instantly, since it was the foremost thing on my mind.

"_No_," she said, although she smiled, seeming to appreciate my compliment. "_I mean, tell me something that you've done. Something illegal."_

By this point, I could feel the couch at the back of my knees, so I sat down and brought her with me, down onto my lap.

She immediately started kissing me again and I nearly forgot that she'd asked me anything at all, especially after she broke off the kiss and then eased down onto me, confidently and without hesitation.

But then she stopped and looked at me expectantly.

"_What?"_

"_Tell me,"_ she reminded me.

"_Oh. Um…yeah_," I agreed as she started up a slow, steady rhythm. I wracked my brain for a minute, but damn it's really hard to think when everything feels so good. But she was still watching me, so I finally said, "_Liz, I'm the Chief of Detectives. I don't have a criminal past."_

She halted her motions and looked at me inquisitively, cocking her head to one side as though she was analyzing me intently.

"_You've never broken a law?"_

Have I?

Surely there were youthful indiscretions.

And since she'd stopped moving, my brain started functioning, albeit slowly, and I finally came up with something.

"_Um…when I was ten, I stole a pack of baseball cards_," I admitted. She smiled at me and resumed her earlier pace.

"_What else?"_

"_You need more?"_

She stopped again, and I finally caught on to the game.

And obviously, I'm not Catholic, but I suddenly felt like I was in confession for the very first time.

"_I once borrowed my parents' car without asking_," I told her as she picked up the rhythm. "_I toilet-papered a neighbor's house. I copied geometry homework from Sarah Henson."_

By that point, she was laughing, but so was I and that made it all feel that much better.

"_Was she cute?"_

"_What? Who?"_

"_Sarah Henson."_

"_No, but she was really good in geometry."_

"_Okay, what else?"_

So that's what we did.

We made love on the couch while I spouted off tales of times I walked on the wrong side of the law.

And yeah, I was grasping at most of it, and some of it was downright fictitious, but it doesn't matter.

What matters is that we connected, and not just physically, but emotionally, too. And I mean _really_ connected, to the point where I don't think she's going to worry about hiding things from me anymore.

"_Oh, and I jaywalked this morning. You know, that really is against the law. Maybe I should turn myself in," _I mused as I held her tightly against me.

We were both breathing heavily and her back was damp with sweat, but I wasn't ready to let her go yet. She was still sitting on my lap, with her chest against mine and her head on my shoulder.

"_Jaywalking?"_

"_Right there on Avenue of the Finest,_" I told her.

"_You like to live dangerously, don't you?"_

"_You bring it out in me. You've got me making love on balconies, in the kitchen, and now today I'm sure it was your influence that had me crossing the street in the middle of the block."_

"_Yeah, probably_," she said on a sigh. "_But you love it, right?"_

"_I love it. I love you. So now it's your turn."_

And that's how I heard about the balloon theft.

And the lying.

"You know, I think that's about it," she told me after assuring me that she never kept a single wallet, even though she managed to lift nearly three dozen.

"You never cheated in school?"

"Why cheat when I already knew all the answers? I mean, I'm no Sarah Henson, but…"

I chuckled at her and ran my hand over her hair, loving the fact that she was finally comfortable coming clean.

"And you've never lied since the third grade?"

"Well, lies by omission, I suppose," she conceded. "But nothing outright until I provided a false alibi."

She sat back on my lap so that she could once again look me in the eye as she added, "Which means you can trust me when I tell you that in my _not_-eighteen-year-old opinion, you're a complete stud."

Then she leaned down and kissed me purposefully before getting up from my lap and saying, "So how about we go into the kitchen and you can impress me with more of your manliness?"

"You're ready to go again?" I asked her as I got up from the couch.

Not that I'm complaining about my wife's sex drive, but I'm not twenty any more, and it's only been ten minutes.

"No, but I'm craving a pickle and I couldn't get the lid off the jar this morning," she replied with a smirk as she slipped into my shirt and buttoned a couple of buttons. "Although if you think you can handle another round…"

I walked over to her and undid the buttons that she'd just done and then put my arm around her and we headed for the kitchen.

"Pickles, huh?"

"Don't get any ideas," she answered. "I just get a taste for them from time to time. Your boys are the only kids I'll ever need."

"You do a great job with them, you know. Well, Jeremy. I know you haven't spent much time with Aaron, but hopefully that'll change as soon as he graduates."

She opened up the fridge and pulled out the aforementioned pickle jar, which thankfully for the sake of my manhood, I easily opened, but before I could tease her about falling into the helpless female stereotype, my cell phone started ringing.

"If that's someone demanding money to keep my scandalous past from coming to light, tell her it's too late."

"That's not the first response that comes to mind," I said as I went back into the living room to retrieve my phone.

It wasn't the mystery caller.

It was Logan.

"Ross," I answered quickly, already worried about the nature of his call.

Had he learned something disturbing in Boston?

Had his mafia wars case heated up?

"It's me, Boss," he said. "I'm at the Gorens', and I think you should probably get over here."

TBC...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: No flames please - Liz deserved a little action, so deal with it. :)**


	42. Chapter 42

**Mary POV**

* * *

><p>"April."<p>

"It's May."

"_Next_ April," I clarified.

"Oh. Yeah, okay."

"Okay? I figured you'd want to do it sooner."

"Considering I expected you to pick a month some time in 2015, I'll take next April."

John and I were currently ensconced in a plethora of bubbles.

I'd already teased him, threatening to take a picture of him in the bubble bath to use as blackmail material, but then he'd turned the tables, saying he'd do the same thing to me, so now we're enjoying a truce.

Not necessarily no _pictures_, mind you, but no blackmail.

I'd polished off one bottle of wine before he got home, and now we were most of the way through a second.

The water was starting to cool and my fingers were getting pruned, but I was much too relaxed to even think about moving.

"Am I that bad?" I asked without opening my eyes.

My head was back against the porcelain edge and my feet were being lightly massaged by John's capable hands.

Of course, I'm not completely selfish.

I was rubbing his feet, too, since we were at opposing ends of the large tub.

"You're not bad at all. I just know that you're not in any hurry."

"Mike bought me a _Southern Bride_ magazine today," I told him, and when I heard him chuckle, I finally opened my eyes. "Oh, so you think it's funny, too?"

"I think I would've been disappointed if Mike hadn't done something like that," he replied diplomatically.

He smiled at me and set my foot aside so that he could refill our glasses, and then he ran the hot water for a moment to bring the temperature back up.

"I suppose you're right," I agreed once he was settled again and had reclaimed my foot.

"How bad did you lay him out?" he asked in amusement.

"I didn't. Well, just for a minute and then I apologized. I'm not a total bitch, you know."

"I don't think you're a bitch at all."

"I just…that magazine…it represents everything I've spent my entire life hating."

"Flowers and wedding gowns?"

"Snobbery and excess and…and…girliness."

He laughed again and brought my foot up to his lips, kissing the sole lingeringly.

"You don't have to worry about any of that," he said. "We'll boycott the flowers and I'll fire anyone who suggests anything girly."

"You'll fire them? You mean, you've hired someone?"

"Well, Jessica agreed to help make the arrangements. In fact, she's excited about giving you a hand, but of course, you'll have final approval. She just wants to help take the stress off of you."

"Huh," I replied as he continued moving his lips over my foot. "You're telling me now, while you're doing that, so that I don't freak out, right?'

"Busted," he murmured without letting up.

"Yeah, well it worked."

"So you're okay with Jessica?"

"Yes, but no pink. No flowing gown. No train."

"Tell her. You're the boss."

He set down one foot and then picked up the other.

"You're very good at maneuvering, aren't you?"

"I think the fact that I've got you in this tub with me, with a ring on your finger, says that you're probably right."

"No, those things say that I love you."

He stopped the assault on my foot and looked at me from across the tub, grinning broadly as he started moving towards me, causing water to spill over the edge.

"What?" I asked self-consciously.

He braced a hand on either side of my head, looming over me in a smug and predatory manner.

"So you're not here because I'm silver-tongued?"

"Well, I didn't say that," I said coyly and as he leaned even closer, I found my gaze shifting from his eyes to his mouth.

"Mary…I just want to make sure your eyes are open. If getting married goes against your moral code…"

"Getting married to anyone but _you_," I corrected, and then I closed the last bit of distance between us, covering his lips with mine.

I could taste the remnants of the Haut-Brion Blanc that we'd nearly killed, and I could feel the heat of his skin against mine and it was all so perfect, almost exactly like it was the night I first told him that I love him.

So of course, it was no surprise when the sound of my cell phone permeated through my lusty haze.

"I would kill for ten more minutes," I said in frustration.

"I guess you have to answer that."

"It's midnight. Nothing good happens at midnight."

"_Some_thing good was getting ready to happen," he countered lightly as we got out of the tub.

"Can we come back to that something good?" I asked over my shoulder as I headed into the other room, wrapping a towel me around as I walked.

"That's the plan," he agreed.

No resentment…no irritation or disappointment, just understanding.

It's ridiculous how much I love him.

And yeah, okay, so maybe there was a little bit of disappointment in his voice, but I'm feeling it too, so I sure as hell can't blame him for that.

"Shannon," I answered without taking the time to look. It had already been ringing so long that I half-expected it to slide over to voice mail.

"It's me. There's been an incident."

And then Carolyn proceeded to tell me what had happened, with Bobby getting clocked repeatedly in the head, and Alex gunning down the intruder.

While she talked, I managed to get dressed, with John helping me out by rounding up my clothes and shoes.

"Did you call anyone else yet?" I asked her.

"Mike's on the phone with Ross right now. I know this case is sensitive, but he needed to be told…"

"I know," I interrupted. "It's fine. Let me call my team and I'll be right there. Oh, and call Lupo and Bernard. So Bobby's awake now? Does he need to go to the hospital?"

"He insists that he's fine, but I'm sure Liz will come and check him out. If he needs to go, she'll let us know. And you know, we'll need CSU, and Liz will have to arrange for transportation of the victim."

"Put those on hold until I get there, okay?"

She agreed, and after I hung up with her, I relayed the key points to John while I strapped on my gun and grabbed my badge.

"So is this going to be an _x_ or a _y_?"

"Well, considering the bad guy is splattered all over the Gorens' bathroom, I think it should probably be safe."

"_That_ bad guy," he said knowingly.

And even though I hadn't said anything aloud, he seemed to be reading my mind.

Because I had to wonder who might be watching the building, waiting to take pictures of the investigators who arrived on-scene.

And on that thought…

"I need to go, honey, I'm sorry," I told John as I pulled my cell phone back out. "I'll call you when…after…if…"

"You'll call when you call," he interrupted, since I really had no idea what to tell him.

When was I going to call?

There's no clear-cut schedule on things like this and I might be busy for the next eighteen hours, or I could wrap it up in twenty minutes and come back home to go to bed.

I grabbed John by the front of the towel that was knotted around his waist, and I pulled him closer to me, kissing him hard.

"Maybe March," I told him. "April sounds so…springy and cheerful."

"Okay," he agreed easily.

"And March is sooner," I admitted, and then I kissed him one more time and then I was out the door. As I hurried to the elevator, I got Dunn on the phone.

"She killed him?" she asked me after I explained the situation. "Good for her."

"Yes, it is. And one less guy for us to track, but I'm still wondering what the others might be up to."

"You want us to go in soft and search the perimeter instead of going inside," she replied immediately.

Have I mentioned how smart she is?

I could get used to working with her.

Hell, I'm already used to working with her.

"Exactly. The three of you are together, right? You're at the house?"

"McInnis and I just got back, so we're both ready to go. It might take Daniels a few minutes, but we can be in the neighborhood in…oh, say about thirty minutes."

"Good. Keep your distance and call me when you get there. And stay together. I don't want this to be some kind of trap where they've already guessed what we're going to do and then I turn you guys into sitting ducks."

"Relax, Mary. We've got this."

Twenty-five minutes later, I walked into the Gorens' apartment.

I didn't have to knock or anything because the door was practically ripped off its hinges.

There was blood on the floor in the foyer, and the sight of it made my stomach clench.

No one else had arrived yet, so for the moment, it was just me and the Logans and the Gorens.

I found myself getting choked up at the sight of Bobby, who was sitting in a kitchen chair with an ice pack on the side of his face. His eyes were glassy and there was blood mixed in with his hair and he was clearly favoring his left side.

_But he's alive_, I reminded myself. He and Alex both.

"How're you doing?" I asked as I put my hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.

I was trying to comfort him without getting too close, because I don't deal well with the prospect of nearly losing people I love and if something had happened to Bobby…or to Alex…I can't even think about it.

If I go down that path, I'll end up in a corner somewhere, crying my eyes out.

"I'm fine."

"You should be in an ambulance right about now," Mike said sharply.

It was obvious that his tone was due to panic and upset rather than anger. He'd nearly worn a hole in the floor from the amount of pacing he'd done just in the time since I'd arrived.

"Yeah, because that's where you'd be," I said to him lightly, catching his eye as I spoke. I gave him an encouraging nod and asked, "Liz is on her way, right?"

"Yes," Carolyn answered, always the voice of sanity.

"Did you call Lupo and Bernard?"

"They should be here any minute, too."

"Okay. Good. So…fill in the blanks. Bobby, what made you go back to the door?"

"The van. I finally remembered that I'd seen one parked on the side street. I went to make sure the door was locked, and I saw the knob turning," he answered, and his voice sounded solid and confident, although he kept his eyes on Alex while he spoke.

She was filling another Ziploc with ice cubes, presumably to put on another portion of Bobby's banged-up head.

"We saw the van, too," Mike added. He still had his gun in one hand, and he shoved his other hand roughly through his hair. "I knew that guy didn't look right."

"The guy? The dead guy?"

"He's wearing a trench coat," Carolyn supplied.

"To hide his M-16," Alex said as she moved closer to Bobby and then gently placed the second bag of ice on the back of his head.

Upon closer inspection, I noticed that she had blood spatters all over her clothes, and even though it looked like she must have washed her face, there was blood smeared along the edges of her hairline.

I hadn't gone into the bathroom yet, but I could just imagine what it must look like.

"Okay, so the van. The guy got out and came inside."

"He was buzzed in right away," Carolyn said.

"We'll look into that. What else?"

"He shoved the door open, and it hit me in the head," Bobby explained. I could see the bruise line forming on his forehead already. "He got me a few more good times with the rifle and once I was down, I guess he got me in the back of the head. The next thing I remember is Carolyn saying my name."

"So he knocked you out, and then went after Alex. He wanted a hostage."

"A female hostage," Alex clarified. "Anna, Dunn, me…"

"They think the women will be easier to manipulate and control," I said.

Mike barked out a laugh that sounded anything but amused.

"Yeah, well he picked the wrong woman for that, didn't he? Wonder Woman strikes again."

"Yes, she did," Bobby agreed firmly, taking his free hand and wrapping it around Alex's waist as though he didn't want her to venture too far away from him.

"So then what? What happened with the van?"

"After we came up here to check on things, Mike ran back down to see if it was still down there," Carolyn stated.

Mike nodded and said, "I figured it'd be waiting for the creep to come out with Alex."

"And?"

"I nearly ran over the guy."

"What do you mean? Did you chase him in the car?"

"No, I ran out the back exit, and one of them was standing right there, like he was going to help load her into the van or something."

I finally took a good look at Mike and picked up on something that I'd missed before. Apparently my concern for Bobby had me overlooking details.

Mike had a quickly-forming shiner and bloody knuckles.

"You got into a fight with him?"

"Well, like I said, I practically mowed him down when I went flying out the door. He figured me out a split second before I pegged him, and it gave him the chance to pick up a two-by-four, which he swung at me. I dropped my gun, so then we started throwing punches. The van engine started up, and then backed up to where we were. A third guy hopped out of the passenger seat and he pointed a gun at us. The guy I was scuffling with started running for the van, and the other guy started shooting at me, so I dove behind the dumpster. The guy got away…the van got away..." he concluded with obvious disgust. "But they were _right there_. They were waiting for trench coat to come out with Alex."

I stared at him for a moment as the full impact of the night's events hit me.

_Three_ of the people I love could've been killed.

Easily.

All while I was indulging in a bubble bath.

"But you got the plate," Carolyn reminded him. She eased closer to him, timing her movements so that his pacing was halted, as she came between him and the rest of the room. "And a good look at two of the men."

_Which also means that they got a look at Mike_, I thought to myself.

But I didn't say it out loud. Not yet anyway.

"And you got a head count," I added instead. "Because there must have been a fourth, too. Someone driving the van."

"Four-man job, after they've already lost two of their men," Alex commented. "Maybe we just need to round up the entire Albanian crew."

"Not a bad idea," I mused. "Cast a bigger net, catch more fish."

TBC...


	43. Chapter 43

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>Things were happening around me, but I felt like I was at least five seconds behind.<p>

Ten seconds, maybe.

Or ten minutes.

My head was pounding like a seventies discothèque, and my ribs hurt like a son of a bitch, and my guilt…that old standby of mine that's been around my entire life…that guilt was flooding through me at an astronomical rate.

It was consuming me.

_Alex could've been killed and I did nothing to stop it._

"Don't say that."

"What?" I asked, turning my head slowly to look at Alex, who'd spoken quietly to me.

"What do you think you could've done? I'm the one who was being callous about the threat."

I stared at her, wondering how she'd gotten so fully in my head.

"Are you okay?" she questioned, narrowing her eyes as she looked me over. She pulled each ice pack back and checked beneath them before settling them back in place.

"Yeah, I'm…it's…yeah," I stammered. And then I just had to ask. "I know you can sort of read my mind, but still…how'd you know _exactly_ what I was thinking?"

"Bobby," she answered worriedly. "You said it out loud."

"Oh."

She watched me for another minute and then looked up and said, "Any word on Ross and Liz?"

Lupo and Bernard had arrived a few minutes ago, and they were getting the rundown from Mary.

And Logan.

When did he get here?

I glanced around the room and saw Carolyn, too.

_That's right_, I reminded myself.

She and Mike had driven us here, and then waited outside.

And then they must have come inside because I woke up to Carolyn shaking me and saying my name.

I'd been passed out on the floor while Alex was putting three holes in an Albanian gangster.

"Two minutes out," Logan answered, and I realized that he was looking at me with concern. "Should we call a bus?"

"We'll wait for Liz," Alex replied.

"Why do we need a bus?" I asked.

I looked at her for a minute, and found myself analyzing the color of her eyes.

_Twenty-one year old Glenlivet Scotch_, I determined.

"Bobby," Alex said purposefully, snapping her fingers at the same time.

I opened my eyes - which is odd because I don't remember closing them - and saw that Liz was standing next to her.

She'd been two minutes out? More like two seconds.

Or maybe it's _been_ two minutes, because I don't remember anyone answering me about why we need the EMTs and Liz just appeared out of nowhere.

"Hey, there," Liz said with a smile. She had a pen light in her hand and she immediately shined it first into one eye and then the other. "How's the head?"

While she waited for me to respond I could hear her mumble, "His left pupil is sluggish and slightly dilated."

"I'm fine," I argued.

"Uh huh. How many fingers am I holding up?"

I focused on her hand and said, "Four. No, three. Three."

"Okay," she answered slowly, and then she said, "I think maybe we need to get him in for a CT."

"I'm fine," I repeated.

"Bobby, it won't hurt to let them check you out," Alex insisted.

"Plates came back on the van," I heard Mary say. "It's registered to Lisa Rorer, with a Queens address."

"So it's not a cable van," Alex said.

"No, but that doesn't mean it isn't painted up to look like one."

"It is," Logan said.

"And Logan's description matches Cutter's," Lupo added.

"So they made it look like a cable van in order to blend in," Alex said.

"Who's this Lisa Rorer? Does she connect to anyone we've learned about so far?"

"We're running her now," Bernard said.

"It's like Schrödinger's cat," I added.

The room fell silent as everyone turned to look at me.

"Whose cat?" Lupo finally asked.

"Schrödinger's. You know, it's the…the…the paradox."

"Bobby," Alex said softly, and I know that tone.

It means that she wants me to stop talking, and I realized that everyone was staring at me like I've got a bomb strapped to my chest and one finger's on the detonator.

"I'm not crazy," I snapped defensively. "I'm saying…this van. Is it a cable van? Is it _not_ a cable van? Until we know for sure, it's coexisting on parallel planes."

"I'm calling a bus," Logan said as he pulled out his phone.

"Bobby, look at me," Liz said. "What's the date today?"

"I don't know," I answered in annoyance. "Is it before or after midnight?"

"After."

"Then it's May 12th."

"Okay, good. And you know what happened tonight, right?"

"Yeah, I laid on the ground like a doormat while a madman went after Alex with an assault rifle."

"Bobby…"

"I'm _not_ crazy," I said again, looking sharply at Alex. "And you of all people…"

"I'm sorry, it's just…"

"I mean, you're my…my…my _partner_," I interrupted, and that wasn't the word I was going to use, but everything else escaped me.

She immediately stopped talking and glanced over at Liz and then returned her eyes to mine as she said carefully, "Yes, I am."

"Then I _need_ you to have my back."

"I do. You know that. I'm just worried about you."

"Yeah, well you don't need to worry about me, okay?" I said gruffly as I shoved the ice packs away and then got up from the chair. "I've been taking care of myself my whole life."

I realized that getting up was a bad idea about five seconds too late because a wave of nausea hit me without warning and I dashed for the kitchen sink.

The voices coming from the room behind me were hushed and convoluted and nonsensical.

"_What is it?"_

"_He seemed fine a few minutes ago."_

"_My guess? A subdural hematoma that's putting pressure on his brain. He needs a scan, and possibly a temporary catheter to relieve the pressure."_

"_And that'll fix it?"_

That voice.

That was Alex.

_Eames_, I corrected.

My partner.

Because I can't let her hear me call her Alex.

I'm not sure why, but I think it would be a bad idea.

As I stood at the counter, leaning over the sink while tonight's dinner made a reappearance, I was startled to feel a hand on my back.

"Hey, it's okay. You're going to be okay, but we need to get you to an ER."

"Alex, it's pulling up now," someone said.

I don't know whose voice it was, and then that realization sent me into a panic, because I _should_ know the voice of everyone in my apartment, right?

Maybe I _am_ going crazy.

And what was I talking about earlier?

Schrödinger's cat?

Yeah, that settles it.

I'm certifiable.

Or…

"Wait! The _van_ isn't Schrodinger's cat," I corrected as I stood up from the sink. "_Christina_ is. As long as the baby remains in utero, it simultaneously exists in a superposition of the states _boy child_ and _girl child_. Or _Demachi's child_ and _someone else's child_. Only after the child is born and the observation performed does the wave function collapse into one of the two states."

No one responded to my theory, but I felt Eames tugging on my arm.

"We need to go," she said.

"Where?"

"I'm going with you," Liz said.

"Where?" I repeated more loudly, stopping my motion and refusing to go anywhere until someone answered.

"To the hospital," Eames answered. "Please, Bobby…"

I had to relent because of the way she was looking at me.

Luminous, soulful eyes that silently pleaded with me to acquiesce.

I can't say no to her.

And one of these days, I'm really going to have to get up the nerve to tell her that I love her.

* * *

><p><strong>Lupo POV<strong>

Once Liz and the Gorens left the apartment, the rest of us stood in silence, despite the fact that we should be discussing the case.

"Okay, I'll admit it," I said at last. "I'm completely freaked out. I don't have a clue where we are on this case because…well, because…I think the smartest man I know was just talking like a deranged Rain Man."

"Hey, you need to shut your mouth," Logan retorted as he quickly crossed the room to stand in front of me. "He took a beating in the head, okay?"

"I know," I agreed as I took a step backwards. "I didn't mean…"

"He's not crazy," Logan insisted. "And the last thing he needs is to have his supposed friends talking about him behind his back."

"Settle down, Logan," Bernard said calmly.

"I'm fine," he fired back. "I'm just saying…"

"And _I'm_ just saying," I interrupted. "Somebody please tell me that's not a permanent condition. Because I _am_ his friend."

Logan glared at me for a few more seconds and then the wind went out of his sails.

"I know. I'm just worried about him. And I don't know a damn thing about what's going on with this case and yet I'm suddenly smack in the middle of it, while my best friend is being whisked off to the ER."

"He's going to be fine," Ross said firmly. "Like Liz said…he's probably just got some pressure built up that's causing disorientation. Once they relieve the pressure, he'll be back on his game."

"Right. You're exactly right," Logan said with a nod. Then he turned to his wife for affirmation and said, "Right, Carolyn?"

"Yes," she agreed quickly. "And I'll keep in contact with Liz so that we know as soon as she knows."

"Good. Okay, guys, I hate to sound callous," Mary said. "But we need to get our heads in this. The suspects are reeling right now because this little venture of theirs went horribly wrong, so we need to go after them before they have a chance to regroup."

"And we need to do something about that body in the bathroom. We just lost our ME."

"We should call CSU, too, although since this guy's dead, I'm not sure what they'll be able to tell us, but still…"

"Right, and somebody needs to get out to Queens and pick up this Lisa Rorer. None of the people you saw were women, right?" Bernard asked Logan.

"No, but I didn't see the driver."

"It wouldn't be a woman," I said. "These guys don't see women as equals. And that's obvious from the way they're going after them now. The only woman involved in this thing that they haven't gone after is Mary."

"Well, I'm sure it'll be my turn soon enough."

"Hey, you guys really need to bring us up to speed," Logan said, looking from me to Bernard to Mary. At Mary's hesitation he added, "I _saw_ them. Which means they saw me. Like it or not, I'm in this now."

"Me, too," Carolyn added.

"Not really," Mary argued. "I mean, Mike, yes, but Carolyn…"

"We're partners."

"That doesn't mean you need to be on the hit list with him," Mary said bluntly.

I could've saved us all a lot of time and just told Mary that she was never going to win that argument, but instead I kept my mouth shut while Carolyn stared her down.

Although Mary's no slouch, either, so it took a little bit of additional reasoning on Carolyn's part.

"The van drove right past our car. It's perfectly feasible that they saw me with Mike, and so once they saw him later, out in the alley…"

"She has a point," Bernard spoke up.

"Right," Carolyn continued. "Because wouldn't it be better if I'm involved and have all of the facts rather than on the sidelines where I might be an easy target?"

Mary sighed heavily and then looked over at Mike and said, "You're okay with this?"

"No, but she's right. They might have seen her."

"Fine. What is it with you guys? Do you all have some kind of death wish or something?"

"No, but I want those bastards who came after Alex and Bobby," Logan stated.

I didn't point out that they'd done a lot more than that because his motivation doesn't matter.

It only matters that we catch the perpetrators.

"What about your case?" Ross asked him. "The Irish and the Italians?"

"We're close to wrapping that up, so we'll work both," he said dismissively. Then he looked at Mary and said, "Give it to us quick and dirty."

It only took about ten minutes to hit the highlights.

"You know, Bobby might not have been spouting nonsense," Carolyn said thoughtfully.

"Schrödinger's cat?" I asked skeptically.

"Well, what if…"

Her theory was cut off by the ringing of Mary's phone.

"It's Dunn," she said as she hit the speaker button.

She'd checked in earlier, so we all knew that the three marshals were combing the area, hoping to find someone who might be watching for us.

"What've you got?" Mary asked her.

"I'm in pursuit of a white male," Dunn's shouted. Her voice sounded breathless and the connection was spotty. "He just turned onto President Street in the two-hundred block…"

All of us headed for the door while Mary continued talking.

"Are Daniels and McInnis working to head him off?"

"We were clearing a building. I lost contact with them," she replied.

"And you're on foot? _Alone_?"

"I'm closing in on him," she stated. I could hear her yelling for the suspect to stop, and then she said, "I just crossed Hoyt, still going east on President, and…"

And then the connection was lost.

TBC...


	44. Chapter 44

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>Bobby was quiet throughout the duration of the ride to the hospital.<p>

That almost worried me more than his illogical ramblings back at the apartment.

In fact, it _did_ worry me more because I don't always immediately follow Bobby's logic, and just because his cat theory wasn't making sense to _me_ doesn't mean it doesn't make sense to _him_.

And I don't just mean make sense in his condition.

It won't surprise me at all if once he's back to normal, he explains his hypothesis again and it'll help us solve the case.

_Once he's back to normal…_

The idea that he might _not_ get back to normal was a frightening prospect, and I could only imagine that it was scaring him even more.

Losing his mind has always been his biggest fear.

"I'm going to need you two to stay out of the way while we're getting him inside," the EMT told us as we approached the hospital.

He looked warily at Liz while he issued his directive, no doubt expecting a fight from her. She'd already strong-armed him into allowing both of us to ride along in the back.

"We won't get in your way," she told him.

"I mean, you'll have to stay in the waiting room while he's evaluated."

"Or," Liz replied firmly. "We'll go into the trauma room while he's being evaluated."

"Ma'am, I don't have time to argue with you. No one is allowed in the trauma rooms."

I wish I had my gun on me, because I swear to God I would've pulled it on him.

Not only for his words, but for his condescending tone, too.

But my gun is back at the apartment.

And my holster has a hole shot through it, and it's probably still on the shower stall floor of my stained and damaged bathroom.

"Eames, come with me," Bobby said quietly once the ambulance came to a stop.

His expression was one of a vulnerable little boy as he looked up at me from the gurney, and so I tried to school my features while on the inside I was in a panic.

_Eames_?

I mean, I was surprised when he called me his partner earlier, but I'd come to the conclusion that it was just because of the work atmosphere.

But now he's calling me Eames.

"Of course I'm coming with you," I assured him.

The paramedic glared at me as he hopped from the back of the bus and then turned to grab onto the gurney.

"Ma'am…"

And then he just stopped.

And maybe it was the look on my face, or the death rays that Liz was sending his way, or…I don't know what, but he relented.

Twenty minutes later, the doctor had officially ordered a CT scan, and for the moment, the three of us were alone in the trauma room.

"I'm going to hurry those nurses along," Liz said as she headed for the door.

Once she was gone, I turned to Bobby and took hold of his hand. He looked down in surprise and then glanced back up at me curiously.

"Eames…"

"Alex," I corrected. "I'm your wife, remember?"

He stared at me a moment longer and then closed his eyes and mumbled, "Great, now I'm hallucinating, too."

I wanted to laugh.

I wanted him to look at me and wink and say _I had you for a minute there, didn't I?_

But he didn't, and there wasn't a damn thing funny about any of this.

"You're not hallucinating," I said decisively. "And you're going to be fine as soon as they can get rid of the blood that's built up around your brain. You remember how that happened, right?"

He opened his eyes again and focused on our joined hands. I watched him as he fingered my diamond ring for a moment and then he looked at me and said, "Something about a cat."

Two hours later, I waited impatiently in an exam room.

The CT had showed that Liz's guess was right. It was a subdural hematoma, obviously caused by the beating he took from the dead Albanian.

And let me tell you - if I hadn't killed him before, he'd still be dead just the same because I'd absolutely hunt him down for what he did.

Because at this moment, the doctor was drilling a hole into Bobby's head.

Just the idea of it made me want to throw up.

"His GCS was fourteen," Liz said as I continued to pace and watch the clock. "That's a good thing. He's going to be fine."

"He doesn't remember that we're married."

"He will."

"But how can that be?"

"The brain is a funny thing," she said vaguely.

"Which means that you can't say for sure that he'll ever remember. He could come out of this procedure and not even remember me."

"Alex..."

"So you can?" I asked unreasonably. "You can stand there and say, without a doubt, that he's going to come out of this exactly like he was before?"

"No," she admitted after a moment.

I stopped pacing and stared at her helplessly as I felt the desperation roll through me.

_What if I don't get him back?_

"Mrs. Goren."

I turned around to see the nurse sticking her head through the exam room doorway.

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to let you know that the doctor's finished. As soon as Mr. Goren wakes up, we'll bring him into the room, but it'll probably be another hour or so."

"It went alright? He's okay?"

"There were no complications," she said ambiguously.

"So he's okay?" I asked again.

"He should be, yes. But we'll have to wait until he wakes up to be sure."

The nurse slipped away and as I stood and watched the empty doorway, suddenly Mike appeared, and I almost cried at the sight of him.

"How're you holding up?" he asked me as he crossed the room and pulled me into a hug.

I couldn't answer him, but he continued to hold me as he spoke with Liz.

"I hate to put you to work, Doc, but the morgue has the DOA and we need your official word before Alex can be cleared. Jenkins offered to do it, but…"

"No, I've got it," she responded, and I know what she's thinking. It'll give her something to do, a way to be useful rather than sitting in here watching me fall apart. "You're staying, right?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Carolyn went to grab us some coffee, and we'll stay until he's ready to go home."

Liz settled her hand on my back for a moment and I let go of Mike long enough to give her a hug. I felt bad for snapping at her, but she had nothing but understanding in her eyes.

"Text me when he wakes up," she said.

"I will."

She left and I was alone with Mike.

The tears came before I could stop them.

"Hey," he said as he wrapped his arms around me again. "It's alright."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"Don't be. Let it out."

And I'm not ashamed to say that I did.

I stood there and cried while he held me.

It's probably the release of my earlier adrenaline that forced my emotions to the surface, but whatever. I don't feel the need to hide from him.

"He called me Eames," I told Mike as I finally got myself under control.

"Not at first," he reminded me. "The pressure was causing his confusion. You have to know that."

"I know, it's just…his mind is so…incredible, and the idea of him struggling just to connect with reality…"

"Hey, even if he _doesn't_ remember that the two of you are married, you know he'll marry you again in a heartbeat," he reasoned, and I found myself chuckling in spite of myself.

"_And_ he might've been connecting more than you realize," he continued.

"What do you mean?"

He released his hold on me and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, which he offered to me.

As I took it, I realized his condition.

Worse than it was when I last saw him.

His shirt was torn and he had another bruise forming on his jaw, and he was dirty.

And he kind of smelled bad.

"And what happened to you?"

"Go wash your face," he said, tipping his head towards the bathroom door. "And then I'll bring you up to speed."

I nodded and headed for the bathroom and when I came back out, Carolyn had arrived. She and Mike were both sipping on coffee and there was another cup sitting on the table.

"Don't ask me if I'm okay," I warned when she opened her mouth to speak. "I can't handle another breakdown right now."

She nodded in understanding and then looked at Mike.

"Did you tell her?"

"We're just getting to it," he replied. Then he flashed me a small smile and said, "Dunn caught one of our suspects."

"She did? How? He was outside?"

"He was set up in the building across the street. She and the other marshals were clearing the building after they came up empty on the street. The guy was camped out on the roof and he had a camera with a telephoto lens."

"So she took him in?"

"Well, let's just say that he's in _now_."

"No, let's go into detail," I countered. "We've got time."

"She called Mary to request backup," Carolyn stated. "She'd followed him down all twelve flights of stairs and out a back exit, and she couldn't get McInnis or Daniels on the phone, so she kept up the foot pursuit. She scared us to death because after she gave her location, the call dropped, but they hadn't gotten too far away, so we were able to catch up to them just as she managed to corner him in an alley."

"He pulled a gun on her," Mike added. "We'd all fanned out, trying to create a perimeter to keep him trapped inside, and Carolyn and I were the first to come across them. We got there as she rushed the guy."

"It was crazy. Right as we rounded the corner, the guy aimed his gun at her, and she didn't even hesitate. She just dove at him," Carolyn supplied. "The girl's got some serious balls."

"Yeah, she reminds me of a couple other women I know," Logan said wryly.

"Anyway, I kept my gun on them while Mike went over to help her subdue him."

"So if you had him under control, why do you look like hell?" I asked him.

Carolyn glanced at him for a moment, but he didn't answer, so she did.

"Mike was a little upset. When Jennifer pulled back to get her cuffs, Mike sort of…took out his frustration."

"I didn't give him anything he didn't deserve."

"I didn't say you did, sweetheart. I'm just explaining why you smell like a dumpster."

Mike looked down at himself and sniffed experimentally and then said, "Yeah, maybe I'll go wash up."

He got up and started walking towards the bathroom, and then he said, "And tell her about the cat."

"Yeah," Carolyn said, her eyes suddenly lighting up. "Get this. Bobby's theory…I think he might be right."

"About the baby existing in two parallel planes?" I asked skeptically.

"Essentially. But really, I think it's about the baby's father."

"Demachi," I replied.

"Or…"

"Derek?"

"Or Rama."

"What? She was sleeping with both lieutenants? How do you know that?"

"I don't. Not for sure. But you have to remember, I'm coming at this fresh, and when Bobby started talking about the possibility of the baby belonging to Demachi or someone else, and then Lupo said how you guys are looking at both mobsters as potentially being behind the hits…well, I suggested that we go back and look through Christina's LUDs and spending habits from sixteen weeks ago."

"The time of conception," I said with a nod. "Okay. And what did you find?"

"Well, nothing yet. Damn, Alex, it's only been two hours," she said with a teasing smile. "But it's a thought. And it's a good one, which means that Bobby was only starting to get confused when you left the apartment. And _that_ means that he got quick treatment, so…really. He's going to be fine. He'll be back to astounding us all with his brilliance in no time."

Mike came back and sat down and then the two of them told me about the rest of their progress.

Once everyone was sure that Dunn was safe, Lupo and Bernard headed out to Queens to pick up Lisa Rorer.

Mary and Jennifer were going to work over the suspect, who was presently being processed at 1PP. Ross went with them, since technically the only charges we could file against the guy were evading arrest and resisting arrest, and those are both obviously local offenses as opposed to federal.

McInnis and Daniels were doing the research on Christina. It was information that probably should've been scoured prior to her entering Witsec, and it's a pretty safe bet that Mary's team will have a new way of doing things after this.

Not that I blame them, because they were most likely following standard procedure, but that doesn't mean it's good enough.

Commotion out in the hall caught my eye and suddenly the doors flew open and a bed was wheeled into the room.

"He's awake already?" I asked as I hopped to my feet.

"He's groggy, but he's coming around," a nurse answered. "He was able to answer rudimentary questions."

Once his bed was in place, the nurse fussed over him for a few more minutes and then she left us alone with the promise of coming back in fifteen minutes to check on him again.

Mike and Carolyn hung back as I moved over to the side of the bed and once again picked up Bobby's hand.

"Hi," I said tentatively, unsure of what to expect.

He opened his eyes slowly and it took him a moment to focus on me, but as soon as he did, he smiled and said the one thing that allowed my heart to start beating again.

"Alex."

TBC...


	45. Chapter 45

**Hayes POV**

* * *

><p>I thought that I might get a call, but not so soon.<p>

"Didn't Bernard tell me that you only hit Flowers twice?" Connie asked me.

It was seven-thirty on Thursday morning, and B and I were just about ready to leave his place.

It had been a long night, more so for him than for me, but it's not like I slept while he was gone.

Or after he got back, for that matter.

He didn't get home until five.

Of course, he'd sent me text updates throughout the early morning hours, but still…I worried.

"_Why are you up?_" he asked me when he finally came through the door.

"_Where else would I be?"_

"_In bed. Asleep."_

"_That's not happening. How's Bobby?"_ I asked him, even though I'd gotten a text from Carolyn about an hour before. She'd said that he was sitting up in the bed already, after scaring everyone to death with temporary disorientation.

"_He'll be going home in a few more hours. I checked in with Logan on my way here, and he said the doctors just want to give it a little time and then recheck the CT to make sure there's no additional build-up."_

"_Good_," I replied. "_How'd everything else go? And how's Alex?"_

He had his back to me, taking off his gun, and I heard him let out a heavy sigh.

"_Or…can you not talk about it_?" I added cautiously.

"_Honestly? I think we're about past the point of low-profile. The Logans are involved…Ross…this whole case is getting out of control_."

His eyes strayed briefly to the clock and then he looked back at me, this time taking a moment to look me over in a way that warmed my blood.

"_I'm tired, but I can't go to sleep now_," he stated. "_I have to be at the DA's office at eight."_

"_Come on,"_ I said as I took him by the hand. I led the way into the living room and then I pushed the obnoxious art-deco coffee table out of the way.

"_What are you doing_?" he asked, a half-smile on his face.

"_Sit_," I directed as I pointed at the floor.

And then I sat on the couch, moving my legs apart enough so that he could sit between them. He still hadn't moved, so I gestured towards the floor again, and then I held up my hands, flexing my fingers to show that I was offering him a massage. He smiled fully and reached up to take off his tie.

"_I'm not going to pass up an invitation like that."_

"_I would hope not_."

He tossed his tie onto the chair and then removed his dress shirt before sitting down in front of me, with his back up against the couch.

"_You know, I've got this weird aversion to running my hands over material for any length of time,_" I told him as I grabbed onto his t-shirt. "_So this needs to go, too_."

He raised his arms so that I could pull the shirt over his head and then he dropped them again, draping his arms over my thighs as he let out a long breath.

I went to work on the tight muscles in his shoulders and neck while he talked a little about his case.

"_Lupes and I went out to Queens to pick up the owner of the van that Logan saw leaving the scene_," he finished quietly.

"_And? Did she cough up any information?"_

"_She was dead. About three-days dead, maybe. Liz is going to be busy today_. _And speaking of Liz…"_

"_I'm at the same point I was last night," _I reminded him._ "Not everybody worked all night."_

"_Yeah. I'm sorry that I had to leave you alone," _he said, tipping his head back so that he could look up at me. "_I should've been here with you after…"_

_Flowers_ was the unspoken conclusion to that statement.

Because we'd only been home for twenty minutes or so when the call came in from Lupo about the incident at the Gorens', and I guess maybe Bernard felt like he didn't get to comfort me or something.

"_You don't have to be afraid to say his name in front of me, B," _I told him, running my hand over his cheek._ "And you don't need to worry about me."_

"_But I do."_

His fingers stroked over the back of my bare legs as he continued to stare up at me, and it hit me really hard that I have no exit strategy.

No plan whatsoever for _not_ being with him.

And I guess it's because I've never really maintained a long-term relationship, but normally, even when I have a boyfriend, I don't imagine him in my life at a later date.

I mean, if I look ahead to Christmas or even the Fourth of July, I'm not wondering what _we'll_ do.

I'm wondering what _I'll _do.

But not now.

Now, I'm already mentally rearranging B's living room to make room for a Christmas tree. Of course, I'll have one at my place, but that doesn't mean his apartment shouldn't be festive, too.

And yeah, that's seven months away, so I'm being ridiculous.

_And maybe by then we'll be living together. _

But I can't think about that right now.

I don't want to jinx anything.

"_I promise…I'm fine_," I told him as I leaned down and kissed his forehead. _"I'm better now than I've been in a long time. Ever, maybe."_

"_Because you faced your demons head on."_

"_Because I've got you,"_ I corrected.

He apparently liked my response because he decided that the massage was over, choosing instead to pull me onto the floor with him where we broke in his Vincent Wolfe rug.

It was a long, drawn-out experience that was so much more about intimacy than the act itself, and once we finished, we stayed there on the thick rug, talking some more about random topics.

I hated to see seven o'clock roll around because it meant that we had to get up and face the world.

Bernard has to deal with his increasingly dangerous and frightening case.

I've got to see if I can locate the person with Liz's name on his or her birth certificate, and find out why they're trying to put the squeeze on her.

And there's also that pesky little possibility of backlash over Flowers.

So yes, I was expecting to hear from Connie today, because undoubtedly Flowers would squeal to Schmenke, who would in turn, call to threaten Connie.

But seven-thirty was awfully early.

"Yes, that's right," I said in answer to her question.

I would've love to hit him a few more times.

In fact, I'm sure that I _would_ have, but the guard had chosen that moment to come in, and even though I knew he'd look the other way, I didn't think it'd be a good idea for me to do it right in front of him.

So I'd reined myself in.

Barely.

Because all I'd been able to think about was shutting him up.

I hated that he brought up details in front of Bernard.

That had been my biggest worry about going to see him – what he would say with B in the room, but at the same time, I needed him there for the moral support. But that's why I told him to state that he's my partner, in hopes of avoiding that very thing.

Because I didn't want him to think about that.

It was bad enough that he knows generalities, and even though I understand that it was important for me to come clean about the rape itself, the fact that Flowers opened his mouth about that rebar…

It made me cringe just thinking about it.

Not _it_, but I mean, thinking about _Bernard_ thinking about it.

"You must pack a hell of a punch. Remind me never to get on your bad side," Connie said.

"What do you mean?" I asked her.

As if I didn't know.

"Flowers spent the night in the infirmary. You don't know anything about that?"

I couldn't decide if she sounded annoyed or amused.

Maybe a little bit of both.

"Um…"

"Don't answer that," she interrupted. "I need to think about how to approach this. Why don't you come in with Bernard – can you do that?"

"I'll check with Eames, but I don't see why not."

"Oh, and that's my other reason for calling," she said, slipping easily into a more friendly tone. "Mulder's here at my office. He stayed with us last night, and he found something that might help your case."

"My case. So you know about that?" I asked in surprise. "And Mulder knows about it?"

"Liz asked for his help," she answered. "It might've been tough for you to get authorization to sift through those birth records, so she thought that bringing him in would help speed things along."

_Good for Liz_, I thought. She must not feel the need to be so secretive about it anymore if she'd enlisted Mulder's help.

"And he was able to get the information?"

"He didn't give me details," she admitted. "But he said _yahtzee_ and then…well, I'm not even going to try to repeat what he said, but the gist of it is that yes, he found the document in question. He wanted to tell Liz first…something about how she might be batmobiling? I don't know. Anyway, the bottom line is that he can show you what he found when you come into the office this morning. So if you can be here at eight, I'll try not to take more than thirty minutes of your time, so maybe Eames can meet you here at eight-thirty."

"That sounds great. Bernard and I are getting ready to head out now, so we'll see you soon."

"Everything okay?" B asked me as I hung up the phone.

"I guess Flowers ratted us out already."

"_We_ didn't do anything wrong," he said pointedly.

"You mean other than spread false information about him in order to facilitate him getting the crap beat out of him?"

"So did he?" Bernard questioned as a slow smile spread across his face. "Get the crap beat out of him?"

I couldn't help myself.

I had to smile, too.

"She said he spent the night in the infirmary," I told him.

"I love hearing about justice being served," he said as he pulled me into a quick hug.

"Me, too," I agreed thoughtfully. "You know, I know the plan was for Connie to go back and offer him another deal, but…"

"You've changed your mind?"

"Maybe. I mean, his intent was to kill me. Why should I settle for him getting fifteen years? If we take it to trial, he could get the maximum. Twenty-five years."

"That's true."

"And if we manage to tie in that first case…that can get him life. And I can't think of anything I'd like better than to know that he'll never get out of prison."

"But the trial…Connie said that Schmenke is a low-life slime ball. He'll try to dig up every skeleton you've got."

I knew he was right, and it scared me, but at the same time, I can't help but feel ready to do this.

The _right_ way.

A deal would be the easy way out.

"If she can get your statement admitted…the one where he confessed to pulling the trigger…and the other thing that he said he did," I stated quietly. "I mean, obviously there was nothing consensual about that, so no matter what kind of loose, amoral woman Schmenke paints me to be, the jury will never believe that I asked for _that_."

He stared at me for a moment and I almost felt fidgety under his gaze and I had the sudden urge to quantify my remark, so I said, "I mean I'm _not_ loose and amoral. I wasn't then, either."

"I never considered that you were," he replied, reaching out to brush my hair back from my shoulder. "I'm just…amazed by you."

"So…you think this is the right decision?" I asked hesitantly.

"It's not going to be easy."

"Says the man tracking down the Albanian mafia."

"I'm serious. That's just work. This is…personal."

"I'd say the Albanians are making things pretty personal, too."

"You know what I mean."

"I do," I conceded. "But I've got you, right?"

"Of course," he answered quickly.

"Then no deals for Flowers. I'm taking this case to trial."

TBC...


	46. Chapter 46

**Connie POV**

* * *

><p>"You stayed for a while."<p>

"I did."

"Any particular reason?"

"Because…I was still thirsty?"

"Uh huh," I replied dubiously while my boss did his best to look innocent.

But I wasn't buying it.

Mike's a social guy, but the only other people still at the table after we left were McInnis and Dunn.

I continued to watch him as he shuffled around the papers on his desk, and then he finally glanced up at me, where I stood in his office doorway.

"What do you want to know, Connie?"

His straight-forwardness caught me off guard.

I was expecting to have to dance with him for a while before he'd accidentally let something slip, but it seemed like maybe our heart-to-heart chat on Monday had opened his eyes to the fact that I _am_ his friend and we _can_ have that type of relationship.

I hope so, anyway.

"Well, I guess I want to know if you had fun."

"I did," he replied as he sat down. He glanced through the windows to where Mulder was sitting at my desk, typing furiously on my computer, and then he said, "A lot of fun, actually. And…I have a date tomorrow night."

I smiled at his confession and said, "With Marshal Dunn."

"Jennifer. Yes."

"Mike, that's…"

"A first date," he interrupted easily. "So don't get all gushy on me, okay?"

"No problem," I agreed.

"Just because you're a newlywed doesn't mean you have to try to fix up your friends," he added.

"I didn't fix you up. You seem to have taken care of that all on your own," I answered in amusement.

"Still…"

"No gushiness," I assured him.

"Okay, so…Bernard's on his way?" he asked, deftly changing the subject in order to avoid any other questions I might have.

I was going to let him off the hook for now, but I'd have to hit up Jennifer the next time our paths crossed, because I can't just stand by and let Mike get hurt again.

I should've guessed the possibility of the two of them hitting it off when she confessed her weakness for lawyers.

I mean, he _is_ pretty cute.

Not Lupo-cute, but still…he's got a certain appeal.

And I don't know Jennifer well enough to just send him off on his own with her, so if I don't run into her between now and tomorrow night, I might have to arrange a meeting.

"I just spoke with Lauren a few minutes ago," I answered. "They'll both be here by eight."

"Did you ask her for more details about their visit? How'd the guy end up in the infirmary?"

"I asked, but then I backed off. I'm not sure exactly how we want to handle that."

"Be her friend first," he said simply. "And then be a lawyer."

I stared at him as he shifted his focus to his cell phone, which had started ringing.

"Oh, I need to…um…" he said after looking at the display.

"Sure," I said with a wave. "I'll let you know when they get here."

I turned to leave as he answered the phone.

"How bad was it?" I heard him ask, and then he started laughing, low and rumbling, almost flirtatiously.

I paused briefly, curious to hear more, but then I felt guilty for listening, so I pulled the door closed tight behind me.

That _had_ to be Jennifer.

She was calling him already?

And he didn't ask any lead-in questions, so they must have spoken earlier, in order for him to know that _something_ might be bad.

Something amusing.

Huh.

I was definitely going to have to catch up with her.

"Hey, so check this," Mulder said without looking up from my computer.

"What are you working on?" I asked him as I circled around my desk to look over his shoulder.

Not that I have any problem with him taking over my computer, because I don't.

In fact, I feel a little bit about him like Ross does – I wish we could afford to hire him because he certainly has the ability to make my job a whole lot easier.

And of course, I like him as a person, too. He's such a sweet kid.

_Or rather, a sweet man_, I corrected.

But it's tough to think of him as anything other than a teenager.

He spent the night on our couch last night, ostensibly to save us the drive back to Secaucus, but I think it was more just because he wanted to.

He'd never gotten to do that the last time, since he ended up in the hospital instead.

And I'll admit it.

Going back to our building with him felt a little strange.

Especially since the elevator was out.

"_You okay, Mulder_?" Lupo asked him as we climbed the stairs.

Because even though he and I have been in and out of the building dozens of times over the course of the past two weeks, the sense of déjà vu was nearly overwhelming this time, and I guess Lupo was feeling it, too.

"_You mean am I about to blue-screen? Dude, I'm cool. In fact, I'm freaking Arctic, right? Because you wasted that stalker dude. I mean, not that there aren't another billion crazies out there, but when I'm with McClane, it's all good, right? Shit."_

I noticed that he hesitated slightly as we got ready to leave the stairwell, glancing downward at the now-clean spot of floor that had fairly recently been covered in his blood.

But then he powered ahead.

He's got guts, I'll give him that.

The love affair between Otto and Mulder was instant and two-sided, and Mulder insisted on taking the dog for a walk.

"_Have you ever walked a dog before?" _Lupo asked him skeptically.

"_Dude, he's a dog. How hard can it be?"_

"_He's a big dog, with very definitive ideas about where he wants to go," _Lupo told him.

But Mulder just grabbed the leash and hooked it on while intermittently rubbing Otto's ears and talking to him.

"_I think we can handle a walk, right, big guy? We'll let McClane have a few minutes with the ten before it's back to romper room."_

Lupo chuckled and handed Mulder a Ziploc and a few tissues.

_"What's this for?" _he asked in confusion.

I watched in amusement while Lupo explained the purpose of the baggie, and then we were suddenly alone in the apartment.

"_You think they'll be alright?" _he asked me.

"_They'll show each other the ropes."_

And I'm not ashamed to say that we _did_ take advantage of having a few minutes alone.

Because it felt like forever since our not-so-quickie against the door this morning.

Not that we actually had sex while Mulder was out with Otto, but we did spend those twenty minutes engaging in an enjoyable make-out session in the kitchen.

Later, after we'd fixed up the couch for Mulder, and Lupo and I had gone to bed…that's when we made love.

_Quietly_.

Because I didn't want Mulder to be able to hear us.

And yeah, I'm sure he knows exactly what we were doing, but still…he's a _kid_.

Then of course, it wasn't long after that the call came in and Lupo had to leave. Mulder and I spent the early morning hours on the couch, watching mindless television because neither of us could go back to sleep.

"_The non-glamorous side of law enforcement,"_ I told him apologetically, but he'd just smiled and wrapped his arm around Otto and said, _"He's kicking ass and taking names. That can't be a nine-to-fiver."_

Lupo had made it back home around five, and we went to bed for two hours before getting up for the day. I'd expected Mulder to be out cold, but he was up and raring to go, and asked about coming into the office with me.

As if I'd say no.

"Okay, so I'm rolling on a freaking abyssagation, right?" Mulder told me while I stood staring at the monitor. "I mean, I'm _right_ _there_. But _it's_ out in BFE and me, I'm without my compass, you know what I'm saying?"

"No."

Lupo doesn't mind letting Mulder think that he understands him because he can usually figure it out if he waits another sentence or two, but I'm not that good yet.

The funny thing is that the more time Mulder spends with us, the better his articulation becomes and yet if he gets lost in a computer again for more than five minutes, he starts talking a language all his own.

But he doesn't seem to mind when I don't get him.

I don't lose major coolness points.

Instead, he just looked up at me and flashed me a boyish smile and said, "Yeah, sorry. Okay, so I was on the verge of something and I just couldn't figure out what I was missing."

"Okay," I said with a nod as I glanced down at the monitor. I noticed the Massachusetts heading on the top of one window and the New York state seal on the other. "Something about Liz? But you already found the birth certificate."

"Right, but she said someone's looking for her."

"Yes."

"And that her name was different by that time."

"Right."

"So how did two and two get put together?"

"You mean, if someone else hacked the database and found the birth record, how did that person find Liz now," I repeated as the words sunk in.

"Because she's Rodgers," he said. "And there aren't any dots from Chambers to Rodgers that would show up on a birth certificate."

I hate the fact that the light bulb in my head was slow to click on, but at least it finally did.

"Her marriage certificate would show another name," I deduced while he nodded his head enthusiastically.

"Right, so they hacked more than the OVR, you know what I'm saying? They moved up to the bigs, which means you're not dealing with a preschooler, right? Because OVR is twister, but the SSA…that's a little tougher."

Have I mentioned how much I wish we could afford Mulder?

But we can't.

And the Bureau offer is solid. Lupo and I went over it with him after he got back from taking Otto out.

"_I don't see anything I don't like_," I stated after reading it over. "_In fact, it's an amazing offer considering you've never actually been in the workforce."_

"_So I should snap it up, right?_" he'd asked, looking from me to Lupo.

"_It's a full-time job_," Lupo pointed out. "_It's not something you do when you feel like it. You'll be there every day, Monday through Friday."_

"_And I'll be pulling in some serious nuts and cheese. I can get my own place."_

"_Yes_," I agreed. "_You'll be able to afford it fairly easily."_

"_Then I have to do it," _he'd said solemnly. "_You'll help me find something? Maybe not too far away?"_

And I know Mulder's parents must love him, but how sad is it that they prepared him so little for the real world? He doesn't have a bank account or a credit card…nothing.

It's almost like Lupo and I have adopted a full-grown child.

"_Of course we'll help you_," I assured him after Lupo cast me a questioning glance. He was waiting for me to say yes because he's already told me that he has a hard time saying no to the kid.

I'm not sure I'm much better off. His naiveté is so endearing, as well as his respect and adoration of Lupo.

And now, Mulder was rattling on about how he hacked the Social Security Administration system, and then did a reverse track to find out who else had gotten in without permission.

He's a genius.

"This dude is madschool, right? I mean, seriously geniyical. If it weren't me scoping after his shit, he'd still be on the down-low, you know what I'm saying?"

"That…the hacker was good, but you still found him?" I asked hesitantly.

He looked up at me and grinned again, and then I saw his gaze shift past my shoulder, and so I turned around to see who he was looking at.

It was Lauren and Bernard, and I watched them for a moment as they walked through the outer office.

"I think she gets hotter every time I see her," Mulder mumbled.

"And more in love," I pointed out as Lauren smiled at something Bernard was saying.

"Yeah," he agreed somewhat wistfully.

"One step at a time, Mulder. Job, apartment, _then_ you find a girl."

"You think I will? I mean…one like her?" he asked hopefully. "Or you?"

"Someone even better," I assured him as I patted him on the shoulder.

"Mulder, it's good to see you," Bernard said as he and Lauren approached my desk. "How've you been?"

I let them get the pleasantries out of the way while I went over and knocked on Mike's door.

To my surprise, he was still on the phone.

"Bernard and Hayes are here," I told him as he held one hand over the front of his cell phone. "They're on a tight timetable, so…"

"It's fine. Give me one more minute and I'll be ready. We can do it in here."

Five minutes later, the four of us sat in Mike's office while Mulder continued to work on my computer.

"He's looking good," Lauren said. "It's hard to believe how little time has passed."

"Uh huh," I agreed. "And he'll be starting at the Bureau a week from Monday."

He'd called Agent Stern this morning, and he has a meeting set up for tomorrow, which means that he'll probably be spending another night on our couch, but that's fine.

"So the offer was legit, huh?" Mike asked me.

"All the way down to the fine print."

"Good. Okay, so…let's cut to the chase," he said, looking across his desk at Bernard and Lauren.

"You want my statement," Bernard said.

"And an explanation," I added. "Schmenke called me bright and early this morning, hopping mad. He said he should've been notified about your visit."

"Yeah, because I give a rat's ass what he thinks," Lauren retorted. "Please. We didn't go as officers of the law, and he knows damn well we weren't required to inform him."

"No, you're exactly right," Mike agreed. "But he also mentioned that his client spent the night in the infirmary."

"I only hit him twice."

"Which she's not admitting to once we go on the record," Bernard added quickly. "So…we're still off, right?"

"Yes. Tell us what you know."

"The guard is a retired cop. He didn't mind turning a blind eye, and he also didn't mind passing on a little bit of gossip."

"Gossip such as…"

"That Flowers is a pedophile."

"That's it?" I asked. "That's all you did?"

"Uh huh," he answered.

"You didn't personally speak to the cellmate?"

"No."

I glanced over at Mike, who was nodding his head.

I could only imagine that he was thinking the same thing as me.

Flowers is damn lucky that he's still alive.

If Bernard weren't such a stand-up guy, they'd probably still be scraping Flowers' corpse off the floor of the visitation room.

"What did he look like when you left?" I asked Lauren.

"Flowers? A pansy-ass little prick. Although, he looked like that when we got there, too."

I smiled at her flippancy, once again amazed by her strength, and then I clarified, "I mean his face."

"He was bleeding, but he kept wiping it on his sleeve. Nothing was swollen at that point, but we didn't stay long afterwards, so…I guess not too bad."

Which meant that the guard could honestly testify that he didn't notice any injuries, because it was perfectly plausible that he didn't, and if he was as onboard as Bernard claimed, then he would've made a point not to look.

And let me state for the record that this isn't the way I usually play the game.

But I trust Bernard…I trust him with Lupo's life every day, and he wouldn't have been callous or irresponsible or hotheaded about this situation.

If Lauren hit the guy, then he definitely deserved it, and I don't mean just for what he did ten years ago, but for something he said yesterday.

So I don't have a problem letting Flowers' cellmate take the heat for the entire beating that, in my opinion, is still not enough for what Flowers deserves.

"Oh, and I changed my mind about offering him another deal," she added. "I want this to go to trial."

"What? Are you sure? Because I really think we've got the leverage we need."

"I'm sure," she said firmly.

"Okay," I said, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eames coming through the outer office. "Um…I think we're good, Lauren. Bernard, I'd like you to stay so that we can get your statement on exactly what was said during the visit."

Lauren nodded at me and then glanced at Bernard with a concerned expression on her face, but he managed to silently comfort her to the point where she smiled at him before saying goodbye to me and Mike.

"And be sure to take your time talking to Mulder," I told her as she opened the door. "It's a challenge, but it'll be worth it. He's onto something."

"Okay, thanks."

Once she was gone, I turned to Bernard and asked, "She's alright?"

"She's holding up nicely."

"And she wants a trial? Even knowing what Schmenke's going to say about her?" Mike asked.

"I think it's important to her to get her day in court," he answered as he shifted his gaze to mine.

I could easily hear what he wasn't saying.

There wouldn't be room for error.

If we tried and lost…I don't even want to think about that.

"Okay then…well, I guess I'd better make sure we win."

TBC...


	47. Chapter 47

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>Irish.<p>

Italians.

Albanians.

Casey O'Grady.

Bobby.

Alex.

These were the things on my mind.

And not necessarily in that order.

The really bad thing is that I'm so exhausted that only one of these things on my mind would almost be too much.

So all of them combined…well, let's just say that I'm damn glad I've got Carolyn.

"One thing at a time," she said astutely to me as we sat on the hard plastic chairs in the exam room.

They'd come for Bobby a few minutes ago, wanting a repeat CT, and this time Alex went along with him.

I have a feeling it's going to be awhile before she lets him out of her sight.

"Prioritize," I said with a nod of my head. I reached for her hand and enfolded it in mine. "I can do that."

"Are you sure?" she asked easily, staring at me with dark, concerned eyes.

"You," I stated, kissing the back of her hand. "Priority number one."

She smiled at me in a way that was at once reassuring and intimate and then she said, "You don't need to worry about me at all. I'm exactly where I belong."

As she spoke, she scooted her chair slightly closer to mine, punctuating her statement so that it came through loud and clear.

Next to me.

That's where she belongs.

How in the hell did I get so lucky?

"Bobby," I said, picking up with my list of concerns.

"You spoke with him. He's back on his game. I'm sure he's got a humdinger of a headache, but his faculties are fully intact."

"But I was _right_ there, four floors down while that asshole was bashing his head in."

"So was I," she responded. "So if you're going to throw blame around, put it on me, too."

"But it's…"

"We were side by side," she interrupted. "Is what happened my fault?"

"No. Of course not."

"Then it can't possibly be yours either."

She held my gaze, almost challenging me to argue with her about my culpability, but I didn't.

Partly because I'm too tired, but mostly because she's right.

Realistically, I know that it's not my fault.

I just hate to think that if I'd acted sooner on my suspicion of trench coat guy then I might've been able to keep it from happening.

And if I'd known more about their case…about Cutter's sighting of the van…I definitely would've responded more quickly.

"We're not withholding information from each other anymore," I insisted. "I don't care how damn sensitive a case is."

"You're right. And I don't think you'll get any argument from Bobby and Alex. The four of us spend too much time together, and when something gets dangerous, we should all be made aware."

"Exactly."

"What else?" she asked lightly.

"What else is on my mind?"

"Uh huh," she hummed. "It's more than me and Bobby, I'm sure."

"Alex," I admitted. "She's been so focused on Bobby that I don't think it's even hit her that she blew that man away in her bathroom. I mean, how close did she come to dying?"

"She'll be okay."

"Yeah, but you didn't see her. She…she…you didn't see her."

Alex's tears had really thrown me, but she'd pulled it together by the time Carolyn had shown up, so I wasn't going to reveal her uncharacteristic show of emotion.

And I can't help but feel honored and touched that she trusts me enough to let her guard down in front of me.

And it's not that I think she doesn't hold the same level of trust for Carolyn, because I'm sure she does, but it would be wrong of me to talk about it behind her back.

"Of course she was upset," Carolyn replied with understanding. "Things were still up in the air. But I promise you, she'll be fine. She'll bury it all until Bobby's a hundred percent."

"And then?"

"And then I'll take her out for shots of tequila and she'll tell me everything."

"You think it's that simple?"

"I do, yes. She's not going to feel bad about killing that guy. And it's certainly not the first time she's glimpsed her own mortality. She'll just need to get it off of her chest and she won't want to burden Bobby with it, so that's where I come in."

"I guess we've all been through this a time or two, huh?"

"At least," she said with a smile.

I sighed heavily and stretched my feet out in front of me, thinking about how nice it would be to take a shower and put on some clean clothes.

Something that didn't smell like two-day old chicken wings, which is what was in the dumpster that I managed to get myself tossed into.

Because I didn't exactly tell Alex the _whole_ story.

I left off the part where I let the slippery little bastard get in a cheap shot on me and while I was doubled over, hanging on to what was left of my balls, he grabbed me and slung me into that damn dumpster.

That was when Dunn and Carolyn both pounced on him, taking him down to the ground. If it had been any other suspect, I'm guessing Carolyn would've shot him, but considering the fact that Mary's crew was having trouble catching someone actually alive, she couldn't risk it.

But she sure kicked the snot out of him after Dunn slapped on the cuffs.

I managed to catch my breath and drag myself out of the dumpster and then I kicked him a few times, too.

But my balls are still aching and I'd love a shower and the opportunity to prove to myself that my equipment still works properly after that incident.

And maybe _prove to myself_ isn't the right way to say it.

Prove to Carolyn would be better.

Although I haven't admitted to her how much pain I've been in, so that's not exactly right either.

Let's just say that I'm not interested in a _solo_ effort.

And I've _really_ gotten off track…

My phone buzzed, signaling a text, so I pulled it out and saw that it was from Johnny.

_**Call me when you wake up.**_

I guess most normal people _would_ be sleeping at six-thirty in the morning, but we're certainly not normal people.

And I guess Johnny isn't either.

"Well that's ambiguous," Carolyn remarked after I read the text aloud.

"And timely. I was moving on to O'Grady next in my list of worries anyway. Let me give Johnny a call and see what he knows."

"You can't tell him where we are. I'm sure Alex hasn't brought him up to speed yet, and you know she won't want to have family descending upon the hospital."

Sometimes I forget how much family Alex actually has. Both parents, two brothers with wives and kids, a sister with a husband and son…she certainly doesn't need our little ragtag family as much as the rest of us.

"I mean, _that_ family," Carolyn amended, clearly reading my mind. "Not _this_ family."

"I know."

I quickly punched in Johnny's number and he answered on the first ring.

"You're not going to believe this," he said.

"Try me. It's been an unbelievable night."

"O'Grady's DNA is on file with the BPD."

He said the words and I found myself unable to respond.

His DNA's on file?

That means I can find out for sure. And that's something I didn't think I'd get to do, or at least not once I learned that Casey was dead.

And then I had another thought that kind of made my stomach churn.

"Wait, why's it on file? Did he do something?"

"No, Logan," he said gently. "From everything I've been able to dig up, the guy was top-notch. Really. If this guy is truly your father…well, it seems he was actually…you know…worthy of having a son like you."

Okay, have I mentioned how tired I am?

Because surely that's the reason why I found myself struggling not to let any tears escape after listening to Johnny's stumbling yet heartfelt declaration.

So I sat there with my eyes burning, staring at Carolyn while I held the phone to my ear, moments away from an emotional breakdown.

Without a word, she took the phone from my hand.

"What've you got, Johnny?" she asked. "What's on file?"

I closed my eyes as I felt her other hand settle against my chest while she finished up the conversation.

"Why? Is there any other family? We'll get Liz to run it as soon as we can. Okay…okay…keep us posted."

"What did he do?" I asked after she hung up.

"He got a bloody nose at a crime scene. He offered up his DNA for exclusionary purposes."

"Huh."

I finally opened my eyes and found Carolyn watching me intently.

"Are you okay?"

"If you're asking if I'm on the verge of flipping out, then the answer is yes."

"Mike, this is good news. You can find out for sure, and if it's true, it sounds like he was a really good man."

"It's just…not what I expected."

"You anticipated disappointment?"

"I…yes," I admitted. "I figured I'd track down some lifer or junkie and…and I don't know what. I mean, I _hoped_ that it wouldn't go down like that, but I _expected_ that it would."

"Mike," she said softly as she wrapped her arms around me.

And I think she was going to say something more…maybe lightly chastise me for my pessimistic outlook, but I guess I surprised her when I hugged her back so tightly, with such desperation because I couldn't help but feel suddenly overwhelmed.

Or not so suddenly.

I guess I've been on the verge for hours now.

So instead of saying anything, she just held me, as tightly as I was holding her, and we sat there like that in the exam room until I started to feel a little better.

Started to feel less like I was floundering and more like I was back in control.

And just as I relaxed my hold on her, Bobby and Alex came back into the room.

By this point, he was in a wheelchair, per hospital policy, and Alex was pushing him, which _isn't_ hospital policy but clearly Alex had won out over the nurse.

"You guys are still here," Bobby said in surprise.

"Did you think we'd leave?"

"I'm fine," he insisted.

"I promised Alex we'd stay until you get released," I stated firmly. "And I don't see you holding any discharge papers yet, so get over it."

He rolled his eyes at me, but then he smiled and it was just so damn good to see him back to his usual self.

"If this CT comes back clean, then we'll be out of here," Alex said, and then she looked at Bobby and added, "So as long as you don't start calling me Eames again…"

"Hey, I was just giving you an out," he teased. "Most women would probably jump at the chance of having their marriage a forgotten memory."

"I'm not most women."

"No, you're certainly not," Bobby replied as he pulled her down onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her as she leaned against his chest.

"You should take it easy with those ribs," I pointed out. I'd gotten a peek at them earlier, and they had to hurt, but I guess the pain wasn't much compared to his need for contact with Alex.

He proved my point when, without taking his eyes off his wife, he responded, "What ribs?"

"Okay, if you guys are going to get all mushy, then we might have to leave after all," I remarked, although I couldn't keep from grinning so my comment lost some of its punch.

"Don't you have some Italians to arrest today?"

"Yes, we do. Or at least we get to execute a search warrant," I answered. I turned to Carolyn and asked, "Do you think they managed to get rid of that decomp smell?"

"I don't see how. It was pretty bad, and they'd obviously already used bleach."

"So the guys on the island…they were moving up the West Side and when they encountered the Irish, they started taking them out?" Alex asked.

"That's what it looks like. I'm just hoping we can find evidence to definitively link at least one of the bodies to the inside of Puccio's house. Because we can link all of the bodies together, so…well, except for Umsted."

"Look at his bank accounts," Bobby said. "If he was willingly letting Puccio use his land, then you know he was getting paid for it."

I shook my head, looking at him in amazement, and said, "That hamster is back on the wheel, running his little heart out, isn't he?"

"Let's not get carried away. I think he's still slightly asthmatic," he joked.

"Which still makes you twice as smart as most people," Carolyn replied.

"Oh," I said suddenly. "Johnny called."

Alex raised her eyebrow at me, and I added, "I didn't tell him anything about Bobby. But apparently he worked all night, and he found out that Casey's DNA is on file with the BPD."

"Exclusionary purposes," Carolyn supplied.

"So all you have to do is have Liz run your DNA through the system," Alex said. "Mike, that's great."

"It is," I agreed.

"If we leave now, we can swing by the morgue before we head out to the island," Carolyn suggested.

"Go," Bobby said. "We're fine here. I'll be out within the hour, and we'll see you at 1PP after you arrest Puccio and his crew."

"You're not going in to work," Alex said to him.

"Yes, I am. I'm fine."

She stared at him hard, and I decided that that was our cue.

"Okay, kids, we're going to head out," I said.

Alex stood up and gave me a quick hug, telling me _thank you_ as she did so, and then she hugged Carolyn, too, before moving to stand next to Bobby.

"Be careful," Bobby told us as I shook his hand. "They won't go down without a fight."

"Bad guys rarely do," I said with a shrug. "We'll be alright."

"Text me when you get out," Carolyn said to Alex. "And we'll catch up later, either at 1PP or at our place."

"1PP," Bobby insisted.

"Bobby…"

On that note, Carolyn and I left them alone, moving through the ER department and out into the parking lot.

"So who's going to win that battle?" I posed as we got into the car.

"I'm not sure. It'll be a good fight."

"Uh huh," I agreed. I started the engine and then let out a heavy sigh as I looked at my wife. "It's been some night, hasn't it? I'm exhausted."

"You look it. You know, we've stayed up all night before," she said, and then she reached out and touched my forehead. "I think you're coming down with something."

"No, I feel fine. I mean, I'm tired, but…"

"I know, and you're not usually so tired after one all-nighter. You feel warm to me."

"I'm fine," I said again, removing her hand from my head and kissing it before setting it on her leg.

"Mike..."

"Trust me. Let's just run by the house so that we can take showers, and then we'll go to the morgue and let Liz do her thing, and then we'll handle the search warrant."

TBC...


	48. Chapter 48

**Dunn POV**

* * *

><p>"How bad was it?"<p>

That's how Mike answered the phone when I called him, and I love that he already recognized my number, especially considering this was only the second time I'd called.

He must've logged it into his contacts right away.

And maybe getting involved with him is a stupid idea.

No, it _is_ a stupid idea, which is why fifteen minutes ago, I'd placed my first call to him, with the intention of canceling our date.

But then I didn't.

Because he'd sounded so sweet and caring.

"_Connie told me you had a little bit of excitement this morning_," he'd said. His voice was low and slightly husky and I had to work to keep myself from imagining him in bed.

_He's at work_, I'd chastised.

Not only that, but we haven't even been on a date yet.

But he certainly knows how to kiss.

So the tone of his voice and the memory of his lips on mine and the non-judgmental way in which he brought up the pre-dawn incident caused me to nix my intended brush-off.

Besides, he didn't even ask why I was calling. It was almost like it's a regular thing that we do…me, calling him to tell him about getting into trouble with my boss.

And I did get into a bit of trouble.

"_I don't know how they do things in Texas, but I'll tell you how it's going to be here. When I give you an order, you follow it. Are we clear_?" Mary shouted at me once she had me alone in the conference room after we'd booked Patrick Compton.

"_But…"_

"_No, see, that's the problem. There are no buts. I said to stick together, and in less than an hour, you were off and running on your own. You realize you could've been killed, right? Right this very minute, I could be on my way over to Queens to pick up your dead, naked body off the street in Kew Gardens. Is that what you want?"_

"_Well, no, but…"_

"_Exactly. So what part of stick together did you not understand? Damn it, Jennifer…what if you hadn't gotten word of your location to me? What if we hadn't been able to catch up to you so fast?"_

Mary finally paused in her nearly ten-minute long tirade and then she said the first words that actually got through to me.

"_I'm so disappointed in you."_

I would've rather she punch me than say something like that.

In fact, I _felt_ like I'd taken a good one to the gut, and for a moment, I just stood and stared and felt…empty.

And it's not that I've never heard those words before.

Quite the opposite.

I've actually heard them more times than I can count.

It was my father's favorite catch phrase, and his disappointment in me began the second I came out of the womb without a penis.

It was only due to the unique occurrence of my mother putting her foot down that my name isn't listed as James A. Dunn, Jr. on my birth certificate.

"_You can still call her Jamie_," my father had said, trying to argue his case.

"_Absolutely not. You have a daughter, not a son. Get over it._"

But he never did.

Although for my first sixteen years, I tried like hell to be exactly what he wanted.

I played sports.

I made straight A's.

I learned the ins and outs of his business.

But none of that mattered.

"_Jay, what's this I hear about you running for vice-president of the senior class?"_

Because yeah, he called me Jay.

"_Yes, sir,"_ I answered immediately. _"I think I've got a good chance of winning, too."_

"_You've got no chance. Because even if you get it, you'll still be number two. Why aren't you running for president?"_

"_I'm not sure if I can give it the time it would require. I've got basketball and MMA and piano lessons and…"_

"_Excuses. You've got plenty of those, don't you? Jay, I'm disappointed in you. Never aspire to be number two. Haven't you learned anything?"_

And then there was the cheerleading debacle.

When I was twelve, I thought it would be fun.

"_You need money to sign up for cheerleading?"_ he'd asked in disgust. "_So you can prance around in a short skirt and try to get boys to look at you? If you've got time for nonsense like that, then you're not working hard enough. I'm signing you up for an art class. You need to think about your college resume, and you're not nearly well-rounded enough. You'll never get in."_

Get in.

He meant to SMU because as far as he was concerned, that was the _only_ school.

Which is why, when I got my early acceptance letter into UT, I got his standard response.

"_Jay, I'm so disappointed in you. The University of Texas? Why did you waste the application fee? You're going to SMU."_

And sadly, he won that battle because I was still only sixteen when I graduated high school and headed off to college.

Since I wasn't officially an adult, I couldn't break out on my own yet.

But by the time I graduated from SMU, I was ready to take my life into my own hands.

I wasn't interested in running an oil company.

"_You're doing what?"_ he'd asked in horror.

"_I got a job with the US Marshal Service. I start my training next month."_

"_You'll be wasting your degree! You've got an MBA!"_

"_I did that for you. From now on, I'm doing things for me,"_ I'd said calmly.

"_Jay, I'm so…"_

"_Yeah, disappointed,"_ I interrupted. "_I get it."_

That was seven years ago, and that was the last time I'd spoken with him.

And maybe at some point I should thank him because despite his lack of love and affection, he did push me to be successful and ambitious.

But early this morning, standing in the conference room at One Police Plaza with torn slacks and a dirty face, I was instantly sent back to that childhood habit of feeling nauseous at those words.

Especially since they came from my new boss, whom I already greatly respect.

And I'd known that Mary was going to be upset with me, but I guess I thought that the end would justify the means.

I mean, I _caught_ the guy.

With the Logans' help, but still…I kept up with him, maintaining a visual while calling for help, and I'd gotten the upper hand on him.

"_Mary,"_ Daniels had said, opening the door and interrupting the ass-chewing. _"Lupo and Bernard found Lisa Rorer. She's dead."_

"_Great,"_ Mary scoffed. _"That's just fucking great. Okay, fine. Um…you know what? It's three-thirty. Our suspect lawyered up and everyone's exhausted. Daniels, call Lupo and tell him that he and Bernard should go home for a couple of hours after they finish up at the scene. Then you and McInnis go back to the house and we'll reconvene here at eight."_

He nodded and left the room and then she turned back to me and I braced myself for the continued verbal lashing.

But instead, Mary tugged on a chair until it was far enough away from the table that she could fall into it. "_Being the boss sucks. I liked it a lot better when I was the one following my instincts and disregarding orders."_

I looked at her hopefully for a minute and then she gestured toward another chair, encouraging me to sit down.

"_I'm not disappointed in you. I'm actually impressed. You did the same damn thing I would've done. And man, I really, really suck at giving reprimands,_" she added as she rolled her eyes. "_How they do things in Texas…you probably haven't lived there in…how long?"_

"_Seven years."_

"_Right. And I'm the one fresh off the bus from Albuquerque, so that was a pretty stupid comment,"_ she mumbled in annoyance. "_And I'm not a __**my way or the highway**__ kind of boss. I understand that situations are fluid and you have to be able to adapt and improvise." _

"_Okay, so…"_ I began uncertainly, unsure if I was actually off the hook or if there was still another shoe about to drop.

"_So tell me what happened."_

"_I was afraid we were running out of time. You guys had all shown up and it wouldn't be long before you were ready to leave the scene, and yet we still hadn't run across anyone…that building across the way is twelve stories, and it was taking so long…"_

"_So you each took a floor."_

"_We did the first six together, and then I urged McInnis to agree that we split up."_

"_Why McInnis?_" she asked curiously.

"_Because I knew that if I got him on my side then Daniels would cave."_

She nodded and said, "_And McInnis agreed with you."_

"_Yes, ma'am. We didn't want to risk wasting the opportunity."_

"_Okay,"_ she said agreeably. _"So you went up on the roof."_

"_Right. I saw him at about the same time that he saw me. He took off running and I chased him across the roof to the back stairwell. I couldn't call while I was running down the stairs because there's no signal in the stairwell, but once we were out on the street, I tried calling McInnis and Daniels both. I found out later that they were both in the stairwell, coming up to find me after clearing their floors. When I couldn't reach them, I called you."_

"_Logan told me that you had the suspect trapped in an alley. He pulled a gun on you and you tackled him."_

"_Yes, ma'am."_

"_Why didn't you just shoot him?"_

"_Because we need him. Right?"_

She closed her eyes and sighed heavily before saying, "_Do you have any idea how dangerous your actions were?"_

"_Yes, ma'am."_

"_Please don't ma'am me," _she said gruffly. "_And the next time you decide to go against a directive, try calling me first, okay?" _

"_Of course. I'm sorry."_

She stared at me hard, and then she asked, "_How do you like being partnered with Daniels?"_

"_Um…I…he's fine,"_ I stammered, surprised by her complete change of topic.

"_Have you been with him for long?"_

"_No, I just transferred to this department about six months ago."_

As she continued to look at me, I started to feel ill again.

Is she thinking about moving me out?

Is that going to be my punishment?

"_Look, ma'am…"_

"_Mary."_

"_Mary," _I amended. "_I know that sometimes I can be a little overzealous and that I have trouble with rules, but I promise that I'll do my best not to let something like this happen again."_

"_Something like this. You mean where you snag the first live suspect in an investigation?"_

It was nearly impossible to keep up with the track of her dialogue.

"_No, I mean…"_

"_I'm going to let you in on a little secret,"_ she interrupted. "_You're me, okay? And yeah, you're a little cuter and probably a little smarter, but I know where you're coming from because I was right there. In fact, I was right there as recently as about a year ago, so I'm not going to sit here and bust your balls for handling a dangerous job with impressive competency. Although, I'll admit that I can understand now how I drove my old boss crazy."_

"_Does this mean you're not going to transfer me out?"_

"_You thought I was?"_

"_Well, you were asking how long I've been around and I figured you'd have to do something to make an example and…"_

"_I'm going to shake up the structure,"_ she interjected. "_How would you feel about being my partner?"_

"_But you're my boss."_

"_Yeah, and I don't like odd numbers, so I don't want a fifth person on this team. I was going to work with McInnis, but I think it might be good for him to work with a man for a while after losing his female partner. I'm afraid he might swing to the side of overprotective, and that wouldn't be good for him or me, so…what do you think?"_

"_You want me to be your partner?" _I repeated dumbly.

"_Keep up, Jennifer,"_ she said briskly. "_Or you're going to make me rethink that bit about you being smarter than me. And for the record, I only meant that you're smarter than I was __**then**__ not now."_

She got up from the chair and so I quickly got to my feet, too.

"_Now,"_ she continued. _"Catch up to Daniels and go back to the house with them. Clean up and get some rest, and then we'll start fresh at eight, okay?" _

"_Okay."_

I followed her to the door and she paused with her hand on the doorknob.

"_One more thing, and this is a biggie. I don't want you to agree with me because I'm the boss. And I don't want you to patronize me and tell me what you think I want to_ _hear. You're good at what you do because you've got a sharp brain and you use it, so if you start acting intimidated by me…"_

"_It won't happen again,"_ I assured her.

I wasn't going to admit that it was memories of my father that had turned me into a kowtowing _yes_ machine, but I could make damn sure I don't go down that path again.

"_Okay, good. I want us to be able to be friends. That's what makes partnerships work."_

I nodded my agreement and she started to turn the knob and I have no explanation whatsoever for why, but I suddenly spouted out, "_I have a date with Mike Cutter_."

She glanced back at me and then checked her watch and said, "_Now?"_

"_No,_" I said, chuckling self-consciously. "_Tomorrow night. Is that okay?"_

"_That you have a date? Seriously, Jennifer…what happened to your balls? You had them earlier."_

"_I mean, is it okay that I'm going out with someone you know?"_

"_Sure,"_ she said with a shrug. "_But if you break his heart, you'll find yourself working in an office in Utah."_

I laughed, thinking she was kidding, but she kept staring at me, so I fidgeted slightly and asked, "_I guess you know him pretty well then, huh?"_

"_Not really. But Connie does, and I like her, so screw him, and you'll be screwed by proxy_."

I can't fault her for being protective of her friends. It's actually a pretty admirable quality, and it only confirms the fact that Mike must be a nice guy.

But still, her choice of wording was amusing so I quirked a questioning eyebrow at her.

She rolled her eyes and added, "_I don't mean you can't** screw **him. I mean...oh, you know what I mean." _

_"I do."_

_"And seriously...Utah, okay?"_

She waited for me to nod and then she opened the door.

So I guess she _wasn't_ kidding.

And maybe her less-than-subtle warning is another reason for my hesitancy to follow through with the date.

But like I said, when I called him, I found myself smiling for no reason at all, so why in the world would I cancel?

"_They're out of coffee. Can you believe that?_" Daniels had remarked, suddenly showing up back at the car.

I'd called Mike because I thought I'd have a few minutes while Daniels and McInnis were gathering coffee for the group, but they'd only been gone about a minute and I found myself stumbling over my conversation in an effort to get him off the phone without being rude and without my colleagues knowing that I was talking to a man.

"_I'll have to call you back,_" I told him, interrupting my own story about my head being on the chopping block with Mary.

"_Sure_," he'd said easily. "_Work calls."_

I hung up with him and ignored the conversation in the car while I analyzed that nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach, and then fifteen minutes later, the guys went into another coffee shop so I tried calling Mike again, and that was when he answered as though we were still in the middle of our previous conversation.

"It actually wasn't bad at all," I told him. I filled him in on the highlights of the conversation, and then I added, "She said I remind her of her."

"Without the sarcasm and moodiness," he responded.

"Oh, I have my moments. You know, she's a really good boss."

"Because she let you off the hook?"

"Because she listened. Instead of just being mad that I disobeyed an order, she took the time to find out why. I think I'm really going to like working with her."

"You know, her telling you not to go off on your own…that's not bad advice. I've still got the knot on my head to back up that assertion."

"It's not something I planned on. It just happened," I stated, feeling him out a bit, because this date might be a waste of our time if he's going to be one of those kind of guys.

The kind who can't stand to see a woman in a dangerous situation.

"Criminals don't like to follow any type of rule book, do they?" he commiserated good-naturedly, easing my concern. "If they did, it'd be a hell of a lot easier to prosecute them."

"I'm sure you do just fine anyway."

"I have a decent conviction rate."

Decent.

It's ninety-three percent.

"A humble lawyer," I joked. "You keep breaking the stereotype, don't you? I'm not sure if I can date you after all."

"You want me to be more arrogant and self-centered?" he said on a laugh. I had a witty retort prepared for him, but I saw Daniels and McInnis approaching, loaded down with coffee, and at the same time, Mike said, "I'm sorry, Jennifer, but I need to go."

"Sure, no problem. We'll catch up later."

"I'd like that."

Ten minutes later, the three of us were in the conference room along with Mary and Lupo.

"Where's Bernard?" Mary questioned.

"He's at the DA's office giving an affidavit," Lupo supplied. "He should be here in about thirty minutes or so."

"Anybody have the latest on Bobby?" I asked as I sipped from a cup of coffee. "Did he get to go home yet?"

"No, but only because he's stubborn."

That was Alex, and I turned at the sound of her voice to see her and Bobby coming into the room.

"You're not working," Mary stated, even as she got up and crossed the room, looking hesitant at first, but then giving him a hug.

"I've been down that road, and let me tell you…it's a dead end," Alex replied. "So give us something that keeps his butt in a chair and we'll make ourselves useful."

"No problem. Work out your cat theory," Mary agreed. "Daniels and McInnis pulled everything from Christina's life sixteen weeks ago. Why don't you two see if you can make sense of it?"

"Or we could talk to your suspect," Bobby countered. "Did his lawyer show up yet?"

"He did," Mary said with a nod as she turned and caught my eye. "But I'm going to see what kind of game Austin has before I hand him off to you."

"Abilene," I corrected as I chucked McInnis with my elbow. He was the one who'd started that rumor. "I'm from Abilene. And really, I've been in New York for five years, so…"

"Are you going to stand here and discuss geography, or are you going to get something useful out of our suspect?" she challenged. "I mean, hey, you snagged him, so you get first shot at him."

Like I said.

She's a really good boss.

I grabbed the file from the table, the one with the pictures we'd developed from the guy's camera, and said confidently, "I'm all over it."

TBC...


	49. Chapter 49

**A/N: It was brought to my attention that for my non-US readers, the acronyms don't always make sense - my apologies. In the previous chapter, SMU is Southern Methodist University. A couple of chapters back, OVR is Office of Vital Records and SSA is the Social Security Administration. As for BFE, that's slang for bum**** Egypt, simply meaning the middle of nowhere. Any others that trip anyone up, please let me know.**

* * *

><p><strong>Bobby POV<strong>

* * *

><p>"We need to talk to her again."<p>

"What makes you think she'll tell us the truth this time?"

"I don't," I admitted as I stared at Alex from across our desks. "But I want to see what lies she tells today."

She smiled at me and for a moment the jackhammer in my head subsided just a little.

It scared me to think that only a few hours ago I didn't know she was my wife.

How could I not know that?

How could I have forgotten making love to her?

Or how she likes to curl up next to me in the bed?

"What?" Alex asked as I continued to stare at her.

"You're so beautiful."

She quickly glanced around and then said quietly, "We're at work."

"Doesn't make you any less beautiful."

"Bobby…"

"I'm sorry," I said without remorse. "I'm just telling you what's on my mind."

"With everything going on in this investigation, _that's_ what's on your mind?" she asked in disbelief.

Of course that's what's on my mind.

Considering how close I'd come to forgetting how she looks naked…or the sounds she makes when I push into her…

Earlier, I'd tried to get her to make love with me.

And sure, I wasn't really in any kind of physical shape to be able to pull off much of a performance, but I couldn't get it out of my mind, the idea that I'd forgotten, and I really felt the need to connect with her like that.

But she wouldn't do it.

"_We're in a hospital_," she reminded me. "_The doors don't lock."_

"_We'll go in the bathroom,_" I suggested.

"_A hospital bathroom?"_ she asked skeptically. "_I'm sorry, Bobby. I love you, but…ew."_

Then she'd wrapped her arms around me and held me close and I couldn't help but take the opportunity to breathe in her scent and catalogue as many memories as I could.

"_I'm sorry I forgot about our marriage,"_ I whispered into her ear.

_"It wasn't your fault."_

_"I know, but…I hope you know that even when I thought you were Eames…I still loved you. That's not something that'll ever go away, no matter what happens. And if we had to start over, I'd marry you again in a second."_

She chuckled lightly and said, "_Mike said something along those lines, too."_

_"He's a smart man."_

And then the image came to mind of Mike coming into the kitchen, carrying two handguns and a rifle, while Alex leaned over me and checked out my injuries…

_"I didn't protect you,"_ I told her, tightening my grip on her even more. "_I said that I would, but I didn't."_

_"Yes, you did," _she argued.

"_You killed him while I did nothing."_

_"You warned me. You called out my name."_

_"That was helpful,"_ I said cynically.

She pulled back from me and held my face in her hands and said firmly, _"It was. It's only because of your warning that I was able to get the upper hand on him. So don't think for one second that you didn't save my life."_

Her eyes flooded with tears and so did mine, and then she reached up and kissed me so sweetly…

But then the nurse came in and interrupted our moment. She brought my discharge instructions, and after that, we drove to Mike's house, where we let ourselves in and raided their respective closets and then Alex used their shower.

He'd offered the hospitality, of course, since we couldn't exactly go back to our place just yet, and we never finished packing our duffle bags.

I leaned against the counter in the bathroom and talked to her while she cleaned up.

Or rather, _she_ talked, going over the guidelines of the deal I'd brokered.

Because, as I managed to eloquently point out, my brain wasn't going to turn off just because I was home resting.

Not only that, but we couldn't even _go_ home, and how much rest would I get somewhere else?

So I was allowed to go into work, but I had to tell her if I felt feverish or light-headed or numb or experienced weakness in any limbs…she basically went down the entire list of potential complications.

"_It says I can resume normal sexual activity,"_ I told her.

She turned off the water and pulled back the curtain, looking at me in amusement.

"_I doubt that means within thirty minutes of discharge."_

"_It doesn't specify,"_ I reasoned as I let my gaze wander over her. She dried herself off and then brushed past me into the bedroom where she'd set out the clothes she'd confiscated from Carolyn.

"_I'll make a deal with you,"_ she replied. "_If we get through today with no issues, then tonight…"_

"_Yeah?" _I asked hopefully.

"_Tonight I'll properly refresh your memory," _she said, obviously understanding perfectly why I felt the urgent need for intimacy. _"And I'll even do all the work."_

And then she'd flashed me a smile as she towel-dried her hair, and I'm telling you…for a man with a battered skull, I'm insanely happy.

Well, not insane.

Just happy.

And hours later, as I sifted through paperwork with my wife, I'm _still_ happy, despite the headache and despite the slight pain in my ribs on every inhaled breath.

I have a feeling that, the next time I try to talk Alex into staying home due to illness or injury, this occurence is going to be brought to the forefront.

Quickly.

But that's okay. I'll deal with that when the time comes.

For now, I'm just happy that she didn't bench me. Because honestly, if she'd insisted, I would've listened to her.

And maybe it's only because she doesn't want to let me out of her sight, I don't know. But I'll take it.

I picked up a printout of Christina's four-month old LUDs and then looked across the desk at Alex as she waited patiently for my response.

"I learned a long time ago how to appreciate your beauty while still getting the job done," I told her. "A prepaid was called a few dozen times over the course of two weeks, and then it seems to drop off the face of the earth."

"It could be Demachi," she replied, still looking pleased by my complimentary words because even though she was chastising me a little for saying them out loud at work, I could tell that it was more out of habit than anything else.

We're married.

I can stand up on my desk and shout out details of our last sexual encounter and no one's going to care.

Well…at least we won't get into any _trouble_.

Ross might not like me offering up x-rated dialogue with Jeremy around, but still...there's certainly no harm in me telling Alex that she's beautiful.

"The marshal service has Demachi's phones accounted for. That number isn't on his list."

"They documented the ones they know about. There could be more."

"True. Or it could be Rama."

"You're determined to make that cat theory work, aren't you?" she teased lightly.

"Not if it's wrong."

"But it isn't, and you already know that."

"Maybe," I agreed. "But it still doesn't help us all that much. We already guessed that Rama and Demachi are both after her."

And Jennifer's interview with the suspect had proven that aspect correct.

"_**Who are you working for**_**?"** she'd asked him as she casually sat down across from him at the table.

Alex and I were watching, along with Mary and Lupo. Bernard wasn't back yet, and the other two marshals were headed to the morgue to see what Liz had learned from Lisa Rorer.

I'd considered that Alex and I should go to the morgue, not only since I figured Liz would want to put eyes on me to confirm that I'm still in my right mind, but also because I want to make sure that _she's_ okay.

But this interrogation was too important.

And if Jennifer couldn't get it done, then Alex and I had to be in the bullpen, ready to step in.

"**_Wouldn't you like to know?"_**

"_**Listen, Detective**_**,"** the lawyer spoke up.

"_**It's Inspector**_**,"** she corrected sharply. "_**I'm a United States Marshal and your client is currently in some seriously deep shit, so I hope you're up to speed on the latest statutes involving witness tampering and hindering federal prosecution."**_

"_**Those are pretty lofty allegations, considering my client was booked on evading and resisting arrest."**_

"_**For now,"**_she pointed out._ "__**But more charges are pending. Do you want to know why?"**_

"_**Because you're a bitch who gets her rocks off by harassing innocent bystanders?" **_the suspect posed.

"_**Innocent,"**_she laughed derisively.

Then she opened up the file and started tossing photographs onto the table.

"_Are those what I think they are?" _I asked Mary.

"_Not exactly."_

Alex raised her eyebrow and said,_ "They're not of you and Lupo and Bernard?"_

"_No. They're of the van, and the guy in the trench coat."_

That information had given me pause, and while I mulled it over, I tuned into the conversation behind the glass again.

"_**You were on the roof with a Nikon and a zoom lens."**_

"_**That's not illegal."**_

"_**Well, it's trespassing. But my question is…why were you taking pictures of a hit man?"**_

"_**A hit man?" **_the guy laughed_. __**"That's generous."**_

"_**So you know him?"  
><strong>_

"_Do we know him yet?" _I asked Lupo.

"_Lucas Montoya," _he answered._ "He's got an impressive sheet, but no murders."_

"_**I've seen him around,"**_the suspect responded.

"_**When you're doing work for Jetmir Demachi?"**_

"_**I don't work for Demachi."**_

"_**Then you work for Rama."**_

"_**Because they're the only two guys who employ people in this city?"**_

"_**Because they're the two lieutenants in the Albanian gang that you're involved with. So…which is it?"**_

The guy, Patrick Compton, crossed his arms over his chest and sat back in his chair.

"_She's not going to get anything," _Mary commented.

"_She's doing alright," _I said.

"_He doesn't have anything to lose. He knows we can't book him on anything that'll stick for longer than an hour."_

"_Then let's give him something to lose," _I said_. "He had a gun on him when she picked him up, right?"_

"_Yeah. Why, what are you thinking?"_

I looked at Alex and said,_ "Text Liz and ask her to send us the morgue photo of Montoya."_

She nodded and immediately pulled out her phone, but Mary narrowed her eyes at me, so I elaborated.

"_Compton has no way of knowing that Montoya's dead, right?"_

"_I don't see how. We certainly haven't told him."_

"_Good."_

"_Here you go," _Alex said, handing me her phone._ "Are we going in?"_

"_I am, but just for a second."_

I left the observation room with Alex's phone and then I grabbed a random sheet of paper off the nearest desk before knocking lightly on the interrogation room door. I didn't wait for a response, but instead opened it slightly and poked my head inside.

"_Inspector," _I said._ "The report's back."_

I was hoping that she wouldn't make the rookie mistake of asking which report.

She didn't.

Instead, she got up from the table and walked confidently over to where I stood, still in the doorway.

I stayed there because I didn't want to skew the perception in the room, which is that she's in charge.

"_The ballistics are a perfect match," _I said in a loud whisper, holding out the piece of paper for her to look at.

She made a sound, almost like a snort, and I glanced at her to see what was wrong and I realized she was struggling to contain a laugh. She was still looking at the paper, so I glimpsed down to see that what I'd snagged was a printout of an email containing dick jokes.

I nearly ruined our ruse as I scanned over the first few.

**My dick is so big, there's still snow on it in the summertime.**

**My dick is so big, I went to The Viper Room and my dick got right in. I had to stand and argue with the doorman.**

**My dick is so big, I have to call it Mr. Dick in front of company.**

"_Do you…um…do you want me to amend the charges?" _I managed to ask her, while on the inside I was praying that she wouldn't file sexual harassment charges against me.

Whose desk did I get this from? Jeffries? Sessions?

"_Yes, thank you, Detective," _she said.

"_Murder one?"_

"_Absolutely."_

I nodded at her and handed off the phone so that she'd have the photographic proof of Montoya's demise, and then I left the room.

"_Bobby, are you okay_?" Alex asked in concern. _"You look flushed."_

"_I'm fine. I'm just…" _I trailed off and handed the piece of paper to Mary. "_I hope Dunn has a sense of humor because this is what I used for my fake report."_

Mary started laughing, as did Lupo, who was reading over her shoulder.

"_She does. You're fine,"_ she said. "_Now let's find out if your game works."_

"_**What was he talking about? Murder? I didn't kill nobody."**_

"_**Ballistics don't lie, Mr. Compton,"**_ Jennifer said arrogantly as she reclaimed her chair. Then she held out the phone for him to look at, showing him the morgue photo of Montoya. "_**So my only question is this. Are you working for Rama, trying to take out Demachi's men? Or the other way around?"**_

"_**I didn't kill nobody,"**_ he repeated, this time looking slightly freaked out.

"_**Well, guess what…I don't care whether you did or didn't. You're who we've got, and in order to wrap up the rest of our case, we're going to let the information about this murder leak to one of the lieutenants. You can either point me in the right direction, or you can let me take a shot in the dark."**_

"_**You can't tell anyone that I did that,"**_ he insisted. _**"Because I didn't, and if they think I did…"**_

"_**They. Who's they?"**_

He hesitated and then Jennifer stood up and pulled a quarter from her pocket and said, _**"Never mind. I like to let fate make difficult decisions for me anyway. So…heads is Rama, and tails is Demachi."**_

She flipped the coin into the air, but before it landed, Compton shouted out, _**"Rama, okay? You can't tell Demachi I whacked Montoya, or I'm as good as dead."**_

"_**And why would I care if you guys want to kill each other off? I'm only concerned about the innocent people getting caught in the crossfire."**_

"_**Innocent? You think Christina's innocent?"**_

"_**I don't know, but I know that those two detectives who were ambushed in their own home…they're innocent."**_

"_**Okay,"**_ the lawyer interrupted. "_**I think my client has talked enough. If you want anything more from him, we're going to need some kind of deal."**_

"_**I'm not done with him yet."**_

"_**It's not up to you, Inspector. We'll wait until we hear from the DA."**_

"_**But I didn't kill nobody!"**_ Compton shouted again.

His lawyer chucked him and the man fell silent.

"_Okay,_" Mary said. _"So Rama's definitely involved, and he's got people watching to see what Demachi is going to do. But why?"_

"_I'm sorry,"_ Jennifer said as she came in the room.

"_For what?"_ Alex asked her. _"You did great."_

"_I should've gotten more before his lawyer stopped it."_

"_You did good to get as much as you did," _I told her. _"And about that report…"_

She'd merely grinned and waved me off, and then she and Mary headed out to see about rounding up some of Rama's gang while Bernard, who'd just arrived, was going out with Lupo to shake some trees in Demachi's territory.

Of course, I was still on desk duty, which is why Alex and I were going through LUDs.

Although, desk duty with Alex isn't all that bad.

"You know what," I said suddenly as I started flipping through the case notes. "Okay, this is weird."

"What've you got?" she asked as she got up and moved around to stand behind me.

She settled her hand on my back as she waited to hear my thoughts, and I could feel the warmth of it through my two shirts and my suit jacket.

Or maybe I'm just extremely tuned in to her after our midnight scare.

"The van," I said. "Last night, it carried the aggressors, the ones who actually came into our apartment."

"Right."

"But Sunday night, at Anna's, it was the blue Honda."

"Which they lost, so…"

"Yeah, but…"

I trailed off as I turned in the chair and caught her eye. She was nodding thoughtfully and I could see that she'd put the pieces together.

Or at least, a couple of them.

We were still short of having the entire puzzle, but we were getting there.

"The van was there, too," she stated. "So if Compton is working with Rama, then it was Demachi's people in the van."

"Uh huh. Which tells us that it was _Rama's_ people who went after Anna, and not Demachi's, like we thought."

"But he was watching, because he suspected that Rama would go after her."

"And what? He planned to trail Rama until he led him to Christina?"

"Maybe. He was letting him do the dirty work," she posed.

"Or at least he _was_. Until last night. So what happened to change the game plan?"

"Mary told the caller about Christina's pregnancy," Alex pointed out.

"And the caller must've been one of Rama's men, if we're assuming they're the ones who pulled off the hit on Anna."

"Right. So why is he backing off now, and letting Demachi take the lead? Why has the desperation level flip-flopped?"

"Because Rama thinks he might be the father," I stated. "And maybe he leaked that to Demachi."

"So now we still have one who wants to kill her and one who wants to keep her safe, only it's the opposite of who we thought."

"Either way…"

"Schrödinger's cat," she said with a smirk.

"Uh huh, but you know, that's just the beginning. Think about it. What would happen to Christina if she weren't in Witsec?"

"I'm assuming you mean if she wasn't planning to testify," she clarified.

And of course, that's exactly what I meant.

I love how she gets me so easily.

"Right. And she's pregnant by one of the two lieutenants. The timing is awfully convenient, don't you think?"

"You think she's conning the US Attorney," she said knowingly. "That she doesn't intend to testify."

"That's exactly what I think. How do you think Mary's going to react if she finds out she's been played?"

"If this is all some big hoax designed for her to hide her pregnancy..." she began, and then she trailed off as she ran her hand gently over my bruised head.

"Mary will be the least of her worries," she finished, her voice filled with conviction. "I'll kill her myself."

TBC...


	50. Chapter 50

**Liz POV**

* * *

><p>I'd probably be asleep on my feet if it wasn't for adrenaline.<p>

And caffeine.

I was filled with both in equal measures, because I was working on hour number thirty-six.

Not necessarily unheard of in my profession, but when combined with my recent high stress levels, it was enough to wear a girl down.

Last night, after my husband romanced me in our living room, regaling me with mostly fabricated tales of his misspent youth, we were summoned to Alex and Bobby's house by a frantic Logan.

And when I got there, I could understand why.

Bobby was a mess, and he deteriorated right before my eyes.

I had flashbacks to the night when Logan cracked his head a couple of times on the table in Steve-O's, the night John was shot, only that time, once Logan had come around, he was mostly lucid.

Whatever false reality he'd been in while his eyes were closed, once he opened them, he was alert and oriented.

Not so with Bobby.

By the time we got to the hospital, he'd forgotten that he's married to Alex, and I won't claim to know everything about the man, but I do know, without a doubt, that there isn't anything in this world more important to him than her.

"_You can stand there and say, without a doubt, that he's going to come out of this exactly like he was before?_" Alex had asked me.

And I wanted to reassure her, but I couldn't lie.

Not about something so important.

_"No._"

I hope she appreciated my honesty.

I think she did, but I'll have to talk to her about it later.

I left her in Logan's capable hands and headed off to do the thing I do best.

I autopsied the man Alex killed.

Lucas Montoya was his name, and based on CSU's report of the crime scene, and on the amount of GSR on the victim's hands, _and_ the fact that he had a gunshot wound to the shoulder, indicating she'd tried to subdue him without using lethal force, I was easily able to offer my opinion that the shoot was good.

I passed on my findings to Danny.

"_Where are you_?" I asked when he came on the phone.

"_Major Case. Marshal Dunn picked up a suspect who was casing the apartment."_

"_That's great."_

"_Not yet it isn't. He's already lawyered up and we don't have him on much of anything. What about you?"_

"_My findings back Alex's story. How fast can you get her cleared?"_

"_As far as I'm concerned, she already is. I just need to file the right documentation. I'll take care of that as soon as I get back to my office."_

"_You're going there now?"_

"_You thought I'd go home? Not without you."_

And the change of his tone from business to pleasure didn't escape my notice.

"_Maybe if you get some time, you can swing by and drink a cup of coffee with me," _I suggested.

"_You just want me to bring you some of the good stuff so you don't have to ingest that sludge in your break room."_

"_Guilty,"_ I admitted. _"So…"_

"_I'll be by in a little bit."_

And he did drop by shortly thereafter, but unfortunately, by that point, I was out in Queens, picking up the body of Lisa Rorer.

When I returned to the morgue, I found two cups of coffee in my office, along with Danny, who was sound asleep at my desk.

I paused in the doorway for a moment, watching him sleep, and then I went and picked up one of the cups.

It was cold, but since it was roughly five a.m., I drank it anyway, and then got started on my second autopsy of the day.

Lisa Rorer was strangled to death roughly forty-eight hours ago.

Upon closer examination, I found evidence of repeated beatings, including several healed fractures.

"_Do I want to know who you're working on now?"_

I stepped back from the body and turned to find Danny coming out of my office.

"_Sleeping beauty awakens_," I teased.

"_Yeah, sorry about that_," he said self-consciously. "_Mary sent everyone else home to get a few hours of sleep, so I thought I'd spend the time with you, but…"_

"_You should've gone home. Especially when you saw that I was gone."_

"_I wanted to wait,"_ he said stubbornly. He crossed the room and kissed me quickly and then said, _"I'm going to run out and get some fresh coffee. I'll be right back."_

"_Okay."_

"_Don't go anywhere,"_ he added with a grin.

"_I wouldn't dream of it."_

He got back ten minutes later, so I finished working up Lisa Rorer while he leaned against the counter and kept me company.

Oh, and while he was gone, I drank the other cup of cold coffee, and then when he got back, I worked my way through the steaming cup that he retrieved from the bodega down the block.

Thus my edginess by eight-thirty.

Well, the caffeine, the adrenaline, and the information from Mulder that he'd uncovered the birth certificate.

Cecilia Elizabeth Chambers was born on December 27, 1981.

_How nice of my roommate to give the child my name_, I thought cynically.

I guess she thought it was a show of gratitude or something, I don't know.

And it doesn't really matter…I mean, Elizabeth Anne Chambers was listed as the name of the mother, with my approval, but still…

Giving the baby my name as her middle name indicated a bond…one that doesn't exist since I didn't even know whether the child was a boy or a girl.

I didn't know the date of birth, either, since it happened over the winter break.

But I could only guess that when this girl…Cecilia…when she accessed the birth record and saw that connection…I don't know what she must have felt.

But I feel kind of bad for her.

Although, not _too_ bad, I guess, since she's apparently trying to blackmail me now.

Too bad for her it won't work.

Danny left around seven-thirty to pick up Jeremy, and only a few minutes after he left, Mike and Carolyn dropped by.

"_I don't think I have any of yours,"_ I remarked good-naturedly, but then I took in the sight of Mike. I'd noticed that he looked a little rumpled at the hospital, but I guess the colors were all in full bloom now.

Black eye, bruised jaw, busted lip…

Honestly, the sight of him made me want to pull him into a hug.

"_No, I've got a personal favor to ask_," Mike replied as he cast a nervous glance in Carolyn's direction.

"_Sure, what is it?"_

"_I need you to do a DNA swab_."

And then he told me about the man in Boston who he thinks may be his real father.

"_It's important for you to know,_" I stated, thinking about Cecilia.

Was she just so desperate to find her birth mother that she was willing to pull out all of the stops? Is that why there was a threat of blackmail? Just to try to get me to admit to it?

I was going to have to place a call to my old roommate. I probably should've done it already, but I hadn't planned on giving up her name.

Maybe I should, though.

I mean, with her permission.

Because seriously...it's been thirty years. What could she possibly be afraid of now?

"_It is,"_ Mike agreed quietly.

"_How long before you'll have the results?"_

"_I'll fast-track it,"_ I promised. "_Twenty-four hours at the most."_

And then, because I still had the overwhelming urge to hug him, I took off my gloves and wrapped my arms around Mike.

"_It was a long night, huh?"_ I mused. _"Are you okay?"_

"_Yeah. Thanks,"_ he insisted, returning my embrace. "_And Bobby's out already."_

"Alex_ texted me. He sounded good?"_

"_He sounded like Bobby_," Carolyn replied with a smile as I moved from Mike to her, giving her a quick hug.

I couldn't help it. I was feeling especially emotional.

Must be all of that caffeine and adrenaline.

Or at least, that's my story.

"_He'll be back to poking around down here soon enough," _Mike added, grinning and then wincing as his lip started to bleed again.

"_No smiling,"_ I told him as I handed him a piece of gauze.

"_Shouldn't be a problem. We're headed back out to the island to round up some wise guys. I can't imagine there'll be anything funny about that."_

"_Watch yourselves,"_ I warned. _"We don't need any more trips to the hospital."_

"_Not this week anyway, right?" _Mike joked. Then he looked at me curiously and asked, "_So you're doing okay? The other night at dinner you seemed a little…distant."_

"_I'm good,"_ I said. "_Really good, in fact."_

And then my phone started buzzing, and I saw that it was Danny, so I said goodbye to the Logans and answered the phone.

"_I'm heading into a meeting with the commissioner as soon as I drop Jeremy off. Apparently he's a little upset that he doesn't know what's going on with this joint investigation. Hell, I barely know what's going on with it. What am I supposed to tell him?"_

I tucked the phone between my ear and my shoulder and went back to work while I listened to Danny vent about the commissioner.

It was nice to feel a sense of normalcy, and it was _really_ nice that Danny was making such an effort to stay connected with me.

If he keeps it up, he's going to lose that _biggest asshole in the Ross household_ title.

I'll be taking it over.

"_Okay, so I'm getting ready to go in. I'll call you when I finish,"_ he told me. "_And if you need me sooner…"_

"_I know where to find you."_

"_Good. And Jeremy said to tell you hi."_

"_I'll text him later. He's really turning into a worry wart."_

"_He loves you. So do I."_

I smiled and returned the sentiment, and then hung up and glanced at the clock.

Yep, I was at the thirty-six hour mark and my head was buzzing from lack of sleep, but the day was just beginning.

I started processing Mike's DNA sample, and that was when Lauren and Eames walked into the autopsy suite.

"This place is really Grand Central Station," I remarked.

"You've had a lot of visitors?"

"Both living and dead," I answered. "Give me a second to get the ball rolling on this and then you can tell me what you know."

The two of them waited patiently while I finished the process and then I motioned them into my office.

"We spoke with Mulder this morning," Lauren began. "He said that he talked to you."

"Yes. He gave me the name. Cecilia Chambers."

"Right, and then he went back in to figure out who had hacked the Social Security system because someone would've needed to find the social associated with Elizabeth Chambers and then run it to find out who was using that number now in order to find you as Elizabeth Rodgers," Eames explained.

"I wondered about that. I guess he found something."

"Mulder? The kid's a genius. I wish I had a tenth of his skill on a computer," Lauren answered. "But as it is, I'm just glad he's on our side. Yes, he found evidence of the hack, and it occurred last Saturday, two days before the first contact was made with you. He's still working on tracking down the origin, but in the meantime, we're working on tracking Cecilia."

"Well, she might not have kept her name. I mean, she probably didn't. If she was adopted out…"

"She kept her name," Eames stated. "She was never adopted."

"What? Never? She was an infant."

"I know," Lauren agreed. "We're still looking into what happened. We're just getting started with this information, but what we need to know is how you want to handle this. Do you want to approach her? Are you interested in pressing charges? Can we divulge the name of her actual mother, or…"

"Wow. Um…I'm not sure. I guess I need to call her. The mother, I mean. Or I need to find her first, and then make contact and see what she thinks."

"And if she says no?" Lauren asked me.

And I know what she's thinking.

How fair is it of me to withhold that information?

If I hadn't volunteered my ID, then she would've found her real birth mother. Instead, I'm cheating her out of the opportunity.

And whether or not the mother wants to be found doesn't change the fact that she _would've_ been found if not for my willingness to defraud the system.

"Let me think on it," I said at last. "See what you can find about the girl, and keep me posted on what Mulder uncovers with the hacker. I don't think charges are in order at this point. It might just have been scare tactics to get me to admit the truth."

"And if it's not?"

"Then what? You think she's going to come after me?" I asked skeptically.

"She's almost thirty, Liz. She's not a kid. And she might've had a hard life. Maybe she holds you somehow responsible."

"Find everything you can without making actual contact."

"Do you want us to help you find the roommate? Or do you know where she is?"

"I don't, no. But I'll try first, and if I strike out, I'll let you know."

TBC...


	51. Chapter 51

**Bernard POV**

* * *

><p>I left Cutter's office at eight forty-five, and I already felt like I needed a drink.<p>

And I was wishing I'd done things a little differently in Frackville.

Because having to recount the meeting with Flowers for Connie and Cutter had made me wish I'd just killed the guy.

Except that wouldn't be fair to Lauren.

She's dead set on taking this thing to trial, and I can't take that away from her.

Me, killing him prematurely, would prevent her from having her day in court.

Although I'm not going to rule out making some behind the scenes arrangements _after_ the trial.

"You did great," Connie said quietly to me as she followed me into the outer office.

"I didn't do anything but repeat what I heard," I deflected.

"You know what I'm saying. I'm sure this isn't easy for you, but really…Bernard, you've been exactly what she needs."

"How can you be so sure?" I asked, pausing at her desk and turning around to look her in the eye. "What if pushing her to talk about it only ends up making it worse?"

"You don't believe that. You've helped her. You can see for yourself how far she's come since she first told you about it. Being able to talk to you and have you be supportive…that's so important. Don't second guess yourself."

I didn't respond, but just let out a deep breath as I nodded my head.

"It's really getting to you," she stated, gently resting her hand on my arm.

"How I feel is irrelevant. She's the one who…who…had to live through it, without any support from anyone. Not her boyfriend or her parents…she was all alone. Can you imagine how that must have felt?"

"Yes," she answered quietly in a way that had me looking at her with fresh eyes.

"Connie, you weren't…"

"Not like that, no," she replied dismissively. "It was...much less violent, and a really long time ago. But all I'm trying to say is that I think I know enough about it to understand how important it is that she has you now."

I wanted to ask more questions, but I wasn't sure if it was my place.

But does Lupo know? And what is _wrong_ with men?

"Bernard," she said firmly, recapturing my focus. "How you feel _isn't_ irrelevant at all."

I nodded and she added, "So...how do you feel?"

"I feel like…I don't ever want her to be alone again."

I think I was more surprised by my words than Connie, who smiled at me and squeezed my arm before letting go and saying, "Are you talking about making a commitment, Bernard? Lupo should've warned you that weddings are contagious."

Marriage? Is that really what I was talking about? I honestly hadn't thought about the specifics, but rather only that I don't want to be without her.

"And now I'm scaring you," she said on a laugh. "Look, there's no rush. And it would probably be better if you _don't_ make any big decisions right now. The two of you are working through a very emotional thing."

"I'm not in love with her because of what happened to her. Or in spite of it. I'm just in love with _her_, and that happens to be a part of her past," I explained, again astounding myself with my willingness to open up.

Although Connie's a pretty good conversationalist and she's my best friend's wife, so who better to talk to for a woman's perspective?

I hadn't realized I was looking for one, but maybe I am.

"I know that," she said encouragingly.

"And when I'm with her, I'm…well, I finally understand why people get married. I used to think it was out of some desperate need for validation, or arcane belief that marriage is just another step in the natural order of how things are supposed to be, but it's not like that."

"No, it's not."

"And I'm not saying I'm ready to get married," I added quickly.

"I'm not going to tell anybody about this conversation," she promised, clearly reading my fear that maybe she'd tell Lupo or Lauren. "And like I said, there's no hurry. You've only been with her for a little over a month."

"That's true," I agreed. "But it feels like I've known her my whole life."

"You're such a sweet guy," she said, and then she kissed me on the cheek. "Lauren's so lucky to have you."

"Hey there, ten. Don't make me call up McClane and tell him you're slinking around with Jody, right?"

I turned around to see Mulder coming into the office balancing three cups of coffee.

"Who're you calling Jody?" I asked him easily.

"I'm just looking out for my man, right? Shit," he said with a grin. He set the cups down on the desk and then offered one to Connie before looking at me unrepentantly. "One ten isn't enough for you? You gotta hit up Lupo's ten, too?"

He's a funny kid, and I really like how protective he is of Lupo. I'll have to let it slide that he blatantly checks out Lauren every time he sees her. I guess he's harmless enough.

"We were just talking," I pointed out. "I guess you didn't bring me any coffee."

"Sorry, man. I didn't know you'd still be here. I got one for Connie and one for the boss-man. But dude, if you want tea, you can have mine," he said, holding up his cup.

"Tea?" I asked, although I was touched that he'd willingly hand over his drink.

"I can't do coffee, right? Caffeine makes me a little jacked, you know what I'm saying?"

"Right," I said with a nod. "Thanks, but zero sleep spells caffeine for me, so I'll just grab some on my way back to 1PP. I'll catch you later, Mulder."

Then I looked at Connie and added, "And thank you."

"You're very welcome."

As I left, I could hear Mulder start in on Connie.

"So check this…the creeper in the SSA? Even better than I thought. I was chasing the re-route and I was all like, what? Dude…seriously. So then I swapped the stalk and did a reverse backtrack and cha-ching! You're feeling me, right? Come on, ten…tell me you're with me!"

I couldn't help myself.

I had to glance back to see the expression on Connie's face.

She was completely lost.

One hour and two cups of coffee later, Lupo and I were on our way to Queens, ready to hit the streets in Kew, looking for Demachi's men.

During the drive, I thought over my conversation with Connie and I made up my mind about something, so I sent Lauren a text.

_**Date tonight?**_

She replied, _**Are you asking if I have one, or if I want to have one?**_

Good. Despite having to start our day talking about Flowers, she's still in a good mood.

I love that about her.

I typed, _**You'd better not have one.**_

Her response came only a minute later.

_**No, but only because the man I love hasn't asked me yet. I'm not sure what he's waiting for…**_

I chuckled and quickly typed in my reply.

_**That's because he's an idiot. How about you go out with me instead?**_

My phone buzzed again, and Lupo sighed and said, "Oh my God. Just call her."

"Have you forgotten already that I tolerated you walking around looking all moony for two weeks, carrying that ring in your pocket?" I reminded him.

"Moony?"

"Definitely," I said as I read Lauren's text.

_**You're the man of my dreams – I'd be a fool to say no. Where are we going?**_

"Wait, why are you comparing this to me asking Connie to marry me? You're not…are you?"

"Would that be so bad?"

"No, it's…no, I just…no."

"Say what you mean, Lupes."

"I just never thought I'd see the day," he said at last.

"And you're not now."

"Oh."

"What?"

"Nothing, I…."

"You're speechless when you think I'm going to do it, and then you're speechless when I say I'm not. Which is it?"

"I think she's great," he answered simply. "And you're happier than you've been since I met you. Do whatever feels right, and I'm behind you."

I stared at him for a minute and then shifted my focus back to my phone.

I don't know why I felt the need to push the issue.

I'm not ready to be married.

But I am ready to make a statement about my commitment to her.

_**It's a surprise. Keep in touch and maybe we can meet for lunch.**_

I tucked my phone back into my pocket as Lupo found a place to park.

We had sketches of the men that Logan had seen fleeing the scene, so the plan was to scout out the area and hope somebody felt chatty. Maybe not the best course of action, but for now we were just hoping that the increased police pressure would cause someone to crack.

And then two things happened.

Two good things.

First off, I got a call from my acquaintance in Toronto.

"I picked up your boy," he told me when I answered the phone. "What do you want me to do with him?"

"Leon Aman? Really, you found him already?"

"You thought it'd take me longer, eh? You should know better than that. And by the way, he looks piss-poor. I think he's got an infection from the gunshot wound. He's sweating like a whore in church and he's white as a ghost."

"Is he admitting to anything?"

"He claims Canadian citizenship and says I can't send him back to New York."

"That's bullshit."

"I wasn't born yesterday, Bernard. And I didn't process him officially."

"Which means…"

"I can let you have him without papers, if you want him."

"What'll I owe you if you bring him to me instead? We're up to our asses in this mess, and I'm not sure we can spare the manpower to make the trip."

"What'd he do?"

"He's wanted in connection with the murder of a United States Marshal."

"Sure, I'll bring him to you. Pick me up a two-four and we'll call it a day, eh?"

"You're on."

"If you're lucky, I'll split it with you."

I hung up and looked over at Lupo and relayed the conversation.

"A two-four?" he asked.

"A case of beer," I explained.

"And tell me again how you know a Mountie?"

I grinned at him and said, "Now, Lupes, if I tell you everything about me all in one sitting, what'll happen to the romance?"

We got out of the car on the south end of Austin, primo Demachi territory, and that's when the second call came in.

"It's Daniels."

"Something good come out of the autopsy?"

"Not really, but we did get something from an anonymous tipster."

"Lay it on me."

"We've got a van spotting. The call came in twenty minutes ago. There's a deli on the corner of Metropolitan and 123rd. The van was seen parked out front."

"Twenty minutes?" I repeated as I waved for Lupo to get back into the car. "We'll be lucky if it's still there."

I quickly spouted off the address to Lupo and he flipped on the siren as his foot slammed down on the accelerator.

"How far out are you?"

"Only a minute or two. Did the tipster report seeing anyone in the van?"

"No, but Bernard…proceed with caution, okay? You're in the belly of the beast out there."

Lupo made the three-mile drive in what felt like seconds and as we approached the designated intersection, I saw the van still parallel-parked across the street from the deli.

"It's still here," I told Daniels.

"I'm going to call Mary to give you some back up," he stated.

Lupo switched off the siren and slowed to a crawl, and then stopped completely about twenty yards away.

"What do you think?" he asked me. "Are they in the van? Or in the store?"

"Or maybe they abandoned it. They know Logan saw it, so they have to figure it's on a BOLO by now."

"Uh huh," he agreed thoughtfully. "I'm going to take a quick look. You keep an eye on the store."

We both got out of the car and I loitered near our vehicle while he hustled up the sidewalk, moving quickly until he was blocked from view, if someone were to exit the store. I bent down near the front tire, ostensibly checking it out while I watched the door.

"B!" Lupo whispered loudly. I looked over at him and saw that the door handle was moving freely.

It was unlocked, just like the blue Honda had been.

People don't leave cars unlocked in New York City.

I stood up and decided that the vehicle was most likely abandoned, so I hurried over to join him as he whipped open the door.

As soon as he did, we heard laughter coming from across the street.

Through the van windows, I could see three men as they came out of the store, heading in our direction.

Two of them matched our sketches, and the third was probably the unseen driver.

"Shit," Lupo muttered as we stood frozen for a moment, deciding the best way to apprehend the three men without starting a gunfight out on the street.

"You ready?" I said quietly as I eased toward the rear of the vehicle.

Lupo nodded and moved toward the front, and after a quick silent countdown, we both stepped out onto the street.

TBC...


	52. Chapter 52

**Jeremy POV**

* * *

><p>"Do you think he'll let me do it, too?"<p>

"Probably. Or Liz will."

"In the morgue?" my brother asked in mock-horror.

"I don't think it's that bad. You know, if Dad says only one of us can work here, then maybe I'll let you do it, and I'll work with Liz. She offered, you know."

"So she's pretty cool, huh?"

"Come down this weekend and find out for yourself," I encouraged as the coffee maker beeped, indicating that the pot had finally finished brewing.

I'd promised Jeffries a fresh cup, and I planned to take some to Bobby and Alex, too.

On the way to 1PP this morning, my dad had told me a little about what happened with them overnight, and it was amazing to see that he'd actually come into work.

He looked like crap, though, and I could tell that Alex was worried about him.

She kept staring at him, even when he didn't know she was looking, like she was trying to evaluate how he was feeling.

Or maybe she's just thinking about how grateful she is that he's okay.

And how tough does that make her?

I mean, she blew a guy away and yet she doesn't seem fazed by that. Instead, she's just focused on Bobby.

Not only that, but how awesome is she in general, for handling the situation like she did?

Pretty damn awesome.

"There's no way Mom will let me come," Aaron replied. "She's been up my ass about finals."

"So don't tell her," I suggested. "Tell her you're going to hang with a buddy Saturday, and then you can call her later and tell her you're spending the night."

Because even though he didn't say it, he and I both knew that it wasn't finals that would keep our mother from letting him come down.

It was me.

"Yeah, okay. I might be able to do that," he agreed. Then he said, "Hey, I need to run to class. I'll text you later."

I hung up with him and put my phone away and then picked up the three cups of coffee I'd prepared before heading out into the squad room.

After handing off one cup to Jeffries, I went over to the Gorens' desks. Bobby was nowhere to be found, but Alex had a highlighter in her hand and was going through a stack of papers.

"I thought you could use some coffee."

"I can get used to having you around," Alex replied with a smile as she accepted the cup.

"Where's Bobby? Is he okay?"

"Men's room," she answered. "If he's not back in five minutes, I'm sending you in after him."

I couldn't tell if she was teasing or not, so I said, "Sure. I'm not doing anything else."

"You're not? Because I can put you to work."

"What do you need?" I asked eagerly.

"Pull up a chair."

She pointed at a spare chair over near the wall, and I started towards it, but then I saw Eames and Hayes coming into the squad room and I completely lost my focus.

"Jeremy?"

"Oh, um…"

"Would you rather see if they need help?" Alex asked me, and I had to force myself to look away from Hayes so that I could look back at her.

And it's not like that.

I mean, yes, I think Hayes is hot.

I can't imagine there's a man alive who doesn't think so.

But right now, it's not her hotness that's on my mind.

It's the case she's working on.

Because really, if I were going to help someone strictly for the purpose of having extended time to lust over them, I'd still work with Alex.

She's just…the total package.

And I don't know Hayes well enough yet to know whether or not she is, too.

I mean, I can _guess_ that she is, simply by virtue of who she hangs out with, but still…

"Yeah, do you mind?" I asked Alex. "They're working on Liz's case, and I…"

"Want to do whatever you can to help her," she finished. "I understand. Go see if they can use you."

"Are you sure? Because if you need me…"

"Go," she insisted. "And thanks for the coffee."

I started walking towards the conference room where Eames and Hayes had disappeared into, but then I stopped and looked back at Alex and asked, "Should I check on Bobby first?"

"No, it's fine," she said as she got up from her chair. "I'll do it."

"You're going into the men's room?"

"It won't be the first time," she answered with a smirk and then she headed off toward the restrooms.

Like I said. She's amazing.

The conference room door wasn't closed completely, so I didn't think knocking was required, but I paused for a moment while I debated the notion, and as I stood there, I could hear Detective Eames talking.

"Are you kidding me? You're really not going to tell me?"

"I can't imagine a scenario where I would discuss my sex life, or lack thereof, with you," Hayes retorted. "Nothing personal, Eames, but you really suck at keeping your mouth shut. And not only that, but it would just be weird."

"I don't want details or anything. Sheesh, I'm just trying to be a supportive partner. We need to be able to open up about our personal lives," Eames replied, and I could tell he was just egging her on.

"You only want to hear about my sex life because you've been married for sixteen years."

"Are you suggesting we don't still have unbelievable sex? Do I need to remind you that Alicia's presently knocked up with twins?"

"I don't think that's a direct correlation to how good the sex is," Hayes said on a laugh.

"Yeah, maybe not," Eames agreed, and he was laughing, too. "But wait, so you're admitting that you have a sex life?"

"I'm not admitting anything to you. If I need relationship advice, I can think of half a dozen people I'd go to first."

"Now see, that just hurts, Hayes," Eames joked. "Can't I offer you some brotherly advice?"

"Brotherly advice? That would imply that you've offered it up to your sisters, and you know, somehow I have trouble picturing Alex coming to you for advice about her sex life with Bobby."

"Okay, stop right there. My sister does _not_ have sex."

Hayes started laughing even harder and said, "She's married! And to a total stud, I might add, so whether you want to think about it or not, she's getting some on a regular basis."

I stood there, trying to decide if I should walk away and then come back, and that's when Eames looked up and saw me.

"What's up, J-man? You got something for us?" he asked casually as he waved me into the room.

"Sorry to interrupt," I said as I pushed the door the rest of the way open.

"You're not interrupting anything," Hayes said, throwing a purposeful look in Eames' direction. "We're actually just getting ready to get to work. Mulder found us a couple of good leads on Liz's case."

"So you're tracking down the kid? This Cecilia person?"

"Yes, but she's not exactly a kid anymore," she answered as she opened up a file. "We've got her file from Child Services, but once she hit eighteen, we have no way of knowing where she went. It's not the most popular name in the world, but we _are_ getting quite a few hits, so we're going to have to pull DOBs until we get a winner."

"Oh, okay, well, I think everyone in the squad room is good on coffee for at least an hour, so if there's anything I can do to help..."

Hayes' phone started ringing, so she pulled it out and looked at the display and then she said, "There sure is. Take this call from Mulder. I have a hard enough time following him in person, much less on the phone."

She handed over her cell phone and then chucked Eames and pointed at something in the file.

"Detective Hayes' phone," I answered.

"Dude, Jeremy, right?"

"Yeah, it's me. What's up? Did you find something?"

There was a slight pause, and in those brief seconds, I had a rush of nervousness roll through me, as though this was going to be some kind of test, because what if I didn't interpret him correctly and a lead was overlooked?

"Okay, so check it. This is some booby-house shit, right? I'm talking double-deuce, and the chick was slicker than eel shit and then boo-freaking-ya, she's right there, you know what I'm saying? So then I'm thinking, what's her damage, right? Why is she cool that I'm scoping her out in the W.H., but freaking Gobi about Beantown? It's like I'm looking for nineties in a trapezoid, right? It's just not happening. So then I was like maybe it's a poser, right? I mean, it's either that or freaking Sybil, you know what I'm saying? No, maybe you don't. I probably shouldn't either, but what can I say? I like the old weird shit. But so this chick is either the two faces of Eve, or…or…there really are two faces, are you feeling me?"

He stopped, presumably only to breathe, and for a second, I started to panic, because I had absolutely no idea what the guy was talking about and so while he was waiting to hear whether or not I was feeling him, I replayed the words in my head, and his style finally clicked with me.

"You don't think it's Cecilia who's trying to blackmail her," I stated carefully, and I hoped like hell I was right because Eames and Hayes both stopped what they were doing to look at me, and Mulder stayed quiet for another beat, and I half-expected him to laugh at any second.

But then he said, "Dude! Archimedes! Shit man, that's it! You need to school me on how to be succinct, right?"

"That's what he said?" Hayes asked me. "He tracked someone else?"

I nodded and said to Mulder, "So do you have anything concrete? An address for one of the hackers?"

"Like I said, dude. Beantown's on the downlow, but the limelighter...that IP goes back to a bar called No Parking on W. 177th."

I scrambled to recall the details of the case that my dad had relayed to me and then I asked, "Can you tell what else that IP accessed?"

"See, dude…that's the thing. That's how I figured it wasn't just a vanilla shake, right? The second IP hacked Cecilia Chambers. Bank accounts, phone records, email accounts…this chick back-doored everything."

"Which means you also have all of that information. We know where she is."

"Right," he agreed as he rattled off the address.

"Okay, thanks," I told him. "Call us back if you find anything else."

I hung up the phone and felt my excitement building as the two detectives anxiously waited for me to bring them up to speed.

I told them what Mulder had said, and then I told them my theory.

"I don't think she's in on it at all," I told them.

"Cecilia?"

"Yeah. I think she was really only just looking for her birth mother. What if the rest of this is someone who's trying to assume Cecilia's identity so that they can make a quick buck? I mean, think about it. A long-lost kid searching for her birth mother…they wouldn't need to know details or any kind of history. Anyone could show up on the doorstep and make that claim, once they know for sure that the woman they're scamming actually _had_ a baby, which in this case, they think Liz did. So she checks her out, and then she thinks she hit pay-dirt with the potential of blackmailing Liz and my dad in order to keep it quiet."

"But how would anyone else even know about it?" Hayes asked.

"I don't know that part," I admitted. "Maybe Cecilia needed help, or maybe it's someone she confided in, someone she thought was a friend. But otherwise the double-hack into the SSA doesn't make any sense. Why go back again once she found what she needed? And Mulder said the second hack was sloppy."

"But if Cecilia only gave this other person the name," Hayes agreed with a nod. "Then she'd have to go into the system to get the details."

"Right," I said excitedly, amazed that she seemed to agree with my theory.

"Mulder gave you an address for the hacker?" Eames questioned.

"In Washington Heights. No Parking Bar on W 177th."

"That's not far from the payphones where the calls were made," Eames stated.

"Let's go check it out," Hayes said as she got up from the chair.

"Hey, um…can I come?" I asked.

Eames looked at me like I had a screw loose, but Hayes seemed like she could be swayed, so I focused on her and added, "I'll stay in the car. And if Mulder calls back, I can talk to him."

She stared at me hard for a moment and then she looked at her partner.

"It won't hurt for him to stay in the car."

"Unless Ross has our ass for taking him out," Eames argued. "I'd rather not get blacklisted from Major Case because I was babysitting the chief's kid and put him in danger."

"Hey, I'm not a kid. You're not babysitting," I began, but Hayes shot me a look that clearly said for me to shut my mouth.

"He deciphered Mulder's rhetoric and he added a few pieces of his own. I think he earned the right to follow this lead through."

Eames held Hayes' gaze for a long minute, and then he nodded and said to me, "If you get out of the car, I'll personally kick your ass, okay?"

"Back seat. Got it," I said, unable to contain my smile.

I was going on a ride-along, and I was helping solve Liz's case.

I'm not sure life gets much better than this.

TBC...


	53. Chapter 53

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>The more I thought about Christina running a scam on Witsec, the madder I got.<p>

I mean, seriously.

People were dead.

And more people could be dead right about now if it weren't for an amazingly thick skull and sheer determination.

And yes, okay…I lied to Bobby when I said that him calling out my name is what saved me.

I actually didn't hear him.

I mean, I thought I heard something, and then I didn't, and so I'd just gone about my business.

But Carolyn had told me that my name was the first word he uttered when he opened his eyes.

It was an educated guess to think it had also been the last thing, especially knowing that he was probably in a panic. Thinking about the comparison to Mike Cutter's situation, and knowing that Anna had ended up dead would make him assume that my fate would be similar if he didn't do something, and calling out my name would've been a last resort.

That said, I will never admit to anyone, _ever_ that I didn't hear him call to me.

Because he's spent a lifetime feeling misplaced guilt and there's not a chance in hell that I'm going to let him do it now.

When we stood there in the hospital room, holding each other while he apologized for not protecting me…it just about broke my heart. I made up my mind then and there that he was going to get the credit for saving my life.

It was one of my smarter decisions because he was able to put the moment behind him.

And I'm not going to feel bad for one second about lying to him.

Not about this.

After we determined the need to talk to Christina again, I sent Mary a text, but since she and Jennifer were in Queens, we were going to have to wait for a little while, so the two of us got back to work, trolling through the LUDs and spending habits of the woman who I'm now just going to call _the bitch_.

At least, in my head anyway.

And maybe I'm wrong.

Maybe she's completely innocent in all of this.

But I don't think so.

And even more importantly, Bobby doesn't think so.

I'll take his brain at half-power over anyone else's going full steam any day of the week.

"I'll be right back," Bobby said to me after we worked in companionable silence for thirty minutes or so.

"Are you okay?" I asked reflexively.

"I'm fine, unless you think having to pee is a life-threatening condition."

"Don't get smart with me," I warned playfully.

"Or what?" he challenged as he got up from his chair.

I looked him over carefully as he winced slightly, the movement most likely causing some pain in his ribs.

"You need to take more ibuprofen," I said with concern.

"Nothing hurts," he lied.

"Bobby…"

He paused next to my chair and then leaned down and said quietly, "Looking at you takes all of my pain away."

"Oh my God…you're delirious."

He chuckled and straightened up, but continued looking at me hungrily. I think it really must have scared him when he realized he'd forgotten me because as amorous as he is on a regular basis, today he's been off the charts.

And it makes it hard to concentrate, yet this case is too important _not_ to, so…

"Don't forget about your promise," he said in a low voice. "I've been a good boy."

"So far," I pointed out. I smiled at him and said, "The day is young and you have a tendency to get carried away."

"When my reward for being good is you? Trust me. I'll be a choir boy."

He flashed me a suggestive smile and then headed for the men's room, and I got back to work on Christina's financials.

I'd pulled her credit card statements from the past year, and I'd found a trend.

She was frequenting hotel bars.

It was the same one for a while, and then a different one was added into the mix, on alternating nights, and then the first one dropped off and the second one continued.

And guess when the double-dipping was going on.

Sixteen weeks ago.

But the other interesting thing was this.

Over the course of two weeks which spanned the all-important time of conception, I found five charges at a third hotel.

"This has got to be the sluttiest woman in New York," I mumbled, and then I looked up to see that Jeremy was approaching my desk, bearing cups of coffee. He set one down on Bobby's desk and then offered the other to me.

"I thought you could use some coffee," he said to me somewhat shyly.

He's such a nice kid. It's kind of amazing that he turned out so well, considering how Ross _used_ to act and how Nancy _still_ acts, but maybe it's a case of learning how _not_ to act.

"I can get used to having you around," I told him.

"Where's Bobby? Is he okay?"

"Men's room," I replied. "If he's not back in five minutes, I'm sending you in after him."

He stared at me for a moment, probably gauging my seriousness on the matter, but then he quickly agreed.

I guess Ross must have told him about what happened.

Of course, Bobby's injuries weren't exactly subtle, but at the same time, Jeremy hadn't asked, which would be the natural thing to do.

He lingered for another moment, so I offered to put him to work.

I mean, hey…I was highlighting charges at hotels. It's not rocket science. And not only that, but Jeremy's a really smart kid. Even if it _were_ rocket science, he'd probably be fine.

He jumped at the chance to do something other than be an errand boy, but as he went to get a chair, that's when Lauren and Sean came into the squad room, and my loss of his attention was instantaneous.

Under normal circumstances, I would've pinned it on the idea that he might have a crush on Lauren.

It wouldn't be a stretch.

She definitely has a certain energy about her that makes her appealing, even to someone as young as Jeremy.

But today, I knew it was because of the case, so instead of teasing him about his blatant staring, I offered him the easy out, suggesting that he help them instead.

"Are you sure? Because if you need me…"

"Go. And thanks for the coffee."

He went in the direction of the conference room, but then he stopped and asked me about checking on Bobby.

I glanced at my watch.

Seven minutes.

I hate to time the man while he's in the bathroom, but today…yeah, I'm timing him.

"No, it's fine," I told him as I got up. "I'll do it."

"You're going into the men's room?" he asked in surprise.

His naiveté is so cute.

I can't count the number of times I've been in a men's room.

_One time in particular comes to mind…_

"It won't be the first time," I assured him, and then I went in search of my husband.

And despite my easy conversation with Jeremy, I was feeling more than a little concerned.

What if the bleeding started up again?

What if there was swelling?

Or maybe he had a seizure…

By the time I reached the men's room, I had myself so worked up that I didn't even knock.

I just pushed the door open and went inside.

There was Bobby, standing in front of the hand dryer, with the nozzle pointed at a large, damp spot on the front of his pants.

"Um…do I want to know?" I asked hesitantly.

He closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head in annoyance, and then he said, "I had a feeling I was working on borrowed time in here. Alex, I'm _fine_."

"Please tell me that's just water on your pants," I quipped, my relief at him standing upright and still calling me Alex causing me to feel a little giddy.

"Ha ha," he retorted as I moved closer to him to get a better look at the problem. "I went to wash my hands and the counter top was covered in water, so when I leaned in…yeah."

The fabric of his slacks, or rather Logan's slacks, was completely soaked, and the dryer was going to take forever, so I grabbed a few paper towels and then held them up against him in an effort to soak up the excess moisture.

I heard him take in a sharp breath as I continued to work my hands over the wet material, and then he said softly, almost to himself, "Now why didn't I think of that?"

"Of using paper towels?"

"No, I mean of getting water on my pants five years ago."

I smirked and replied, "You wouldn't have known what to do if I'd touched you like this back then."

"Yes, I would've," he argued lightly. "I would've done something like this."

He leaned down and kissed me, and for a moment, I completely forgot about the fact that we were standing in the men's room at 1PP.

Because what if Montoya's blows had been enough to kill him? Or cause him irreparable brain damage?

What if I never got another chance to kiss him and tell him how much I love him?

The paper towels were forgotten, dropped on the floor as I slid my arms around his waist and hugged him to me as the intensity of our kiss increased with both of our growing need.

His hands were on my cheeks, but as he stepped into me, backing me up until I was against the wall next to the dryer, he moved one hand further into my hair, gently grabbing onto a handful as he tipped my head upwards even more, changing the angle of our kiss.

The sound of a toilet flushing brought us both back to reality.

Fortunately, we were still alone in the men's room, but it shares a wall with the ladies' bathroom, which was where the sound had come from.

I hated to let go of him.

If he asked me right now…if _this_ bathroom door locked…I might not be able to say no.

But it doesn't lock, and we're still at work, and Bobby's only a few hours post-discharge.

"You're not being a very good boy," I told him, my voice sounding husky even to my own ears.

"I think I was being _very_ good," he countered, smiling at me as he took a small step back, creating some space between us.

I didn't make any effort to move away.

Instead, I stood there and stared at him.

The bruising on the side of his face. The scrapes that looked like road rash, from the butt of the M-16. The small bandage on his head underneath which was the stitched-over hole in his skull.

"I love you," I said suddenly. "I don't know when I said it last, but…I just really, really love you."

He smiled fully and reached out to touch my cheek again, this time running his thumb lightly over my skin.

"I know that, or you never would've let me kiss you at work," he said playfully. But then he added, "I really, really love you, too."

We stared at each other for another long minute, and then I finally forced myself into action.

We have a case we're working on.

I picked up the paper towels that I'd dropped and tossed them in the trash before pulling a few more from the rack.

"I think you're okay," I told him as I swiped at his pants a few more times.

And as I stood there, hunched over so that my face was at crotch-level while I pushed the towels against him, the bathroom door opened.

Jeffries took two steps into the bathroom and then saw me and Bobby, and then he immediately turned around and left them room.

"I guess I'm glad he came in when he did instead of a minute earlier," I said, laughing as I threw away the paper towels. "At least we have a legitimate explanation for this."

"It doesn't matter," Bobby said dismissively. "It was his desk I pulled that email from, the one with the dick jokes. He's going to owe me for quite some time."

He stepped in front of the mirror and looked at himself, and I said, "No one will notice. Come on, I think I might be on to something with Christina's charges."

"Something like…" he asked as he followed me out of the men's room.

"Like a third lover."

"During the time of conception?"

"Uh huh. Either that, or our two creatures of habit decided to briefly break out of their routine."

"Unlikely. Mafia types like routine," he commented as we sat down at our desks.

He eyeballed the coffee, and I said, "Jeremy." And then as he took a sip, I began spouting off the information I'd gleaned from the charges.

"She was at the Flushing Inn a couple nights a week, and at the LaGuardia Plaza a couple nights a week, and then over the two-week span surrounding the suspected date of conception, she spent five evenings at the Maritime."

"In Chelsea?"

"Yep."

"And what was her home address?"

"W. 21st. In Chelsea."

"So why would she stay in a hotel that's four blocks from her apartment?"

"I think that's one more in a long list of questions that we have for Christina," I stated angrily. "But I'm undecided what I'd rather do."

"Between what?"

"Kill her or hear the truth."

He smirked as he caught my eye across the desks and said, "You know you can't really kill her, right? I mean, she _is_ pregnant."

"Fine. For now, I'll go with getting the truth. But after that…well, the baby's due in five months. I can wait."

TBC...


	54. Chapter 54

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

><p>It was almost nine by the time we got on the island, and it took another thirty minutes after that to drive over to Westerleigh.<p>

During that time, Mike's suspected fever finally showed itself.

"You're at least a hundred and one."

"That's impossible. I feel fine."

But his voice sounded hoarse and his face was flushed, and the last thing I wanted was for him to push himself by searching through a house that reeked of bleach and dead bodies.

He should really be in a bed right about now.

Although, for that matter, so should Bobby, and I knew that he'd gone into work.

I wondered idly what it would take for me and Alex to get both men into bed.

Probably nothing short of a modern-day miracle.

But that didn't mean I wasn't going to try.

Not for bed, but at least to get him to take a break.

"Why don't you wait in the car and let me execute the search warrant," I suggested as he turned onto Crystal Avenue.

"Yeah, that's going to happen," he said gruffly.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Like I'm going to sit in the car while you handle searching the house of an Italian mobster suspected of killing six people. Not to mention the possibility that his two goombah friends will be hanging around."

"And I can't possibly handle it on my own?" I asked, working hard to keep a rein on my temper.

"I didn't say that."

"You might as well have."

"Carolyn…"

"No, don't dance around it. Just say it. The big bad Italians will walk all over one lowly female detective, right?"

And yeah, so I'd lost hold of the reins.

I couldn't help myself.

His stubbornness was pissing me off.

"What?" he asked in exasperation. "That's not what I meant!"

"You won't admit that you're sick…you don't want me to do a search warrant alone…is it because you think I'm completely incompetent or just that it can't possibly get done right if you're not involved?"

"You think I think you're incompetent?"

"I think that you're taking on the weight of the world lately and in the meantime, you're forgetting that you have people who are willing to help…who want to help, but it's kind of hard when…"

I trailed off as I realized the words that were coming out of my mouth.

I was really going to sit here and yell at him? While he's sick and he's sweating out the DNA test results and _after_ he was so freaked out about Bobby and Alex and _before_ we're getting ready to wrap up this mafia case?

What kind of wife am I?

"Oh my God, Mike…I'm sorry," I said quickly.

"Don't be sorry for telling me how you feel," he replied, his tone careful and measured.

I'd hurt him with my outburst.

Damn it, what's wrong with me?

"But I _don't_ feel like that," I insisted. "I mean, I know you don't think I'm incompetent. I just…I'm…"

I'm what?

_Getting ready to cry_, I realized.

I took a couple of deep breaths in an effort to steady myself while Mike parked the car two blocks away from Puccio's house.

He shut off the engine and turned to look at me, and I could feel his eyes on me, but I was afraid to look.

"Carolyn…you're doing it again."

"Doing what?" I asked obstinately.

"You've been breezing through this day like none of it affected you. Like it didn't bother you to see Bobby sprawled out on the floor in his apartment, or that the sight of Alex, shell-shocked and covered in blowback was just a normal occurrence. You've been glossing it over and I've been letting you because you're so damn good at being the strong one, but it does affect you."

"I'm…I'm prioritizing," I argued, even though he was exactly right.

I don't do well dealing with the potential death of people I love. I mean, no one does, but I tend to react by shoring up my armor so that no one can see my weaknesses.

And having feelings is a weakness.

"I'm trying to help you because it's _your_ life that's in turmoil right now…" I said, continuing my denial.

"_Our_ life," he corrected. "And I don't want you _behind_ me. I want you _beside_ me. We're in this together, and there's no reason for you to keep pretending like none of it gets to you just so that you're ready for me in case I fall apart. Maybe you need a turn. Or hell, maybe we'll get crazy and fall apart together."

He put his hand under my chin and tilted my head up until I looked at him.

"You can handle Puccio with one hand tied behind your back. I want us to do it together because that's what we do," he continued. "And yeah, I'm feeling crappy right now, and it pisses me off that I'm coming down with something, so it's made me grouchy, and I'm sorry about that. I really am. But I don't want to sit on the bench. We'll work until the work is done, and then we'll go home and rest."

"Together," I said with a nod. "I get it."

"And somewhere in there, maybe we'll have a few shots and you can tell me how all of this is making _you_ feel," he added pointedly.

"I'll tell you right now. I feel like a bitch for yelling at you."

He smiled at me, causing his lip to start oozing again, and I reached out to wipe the blood away with my thumb.

"I'd kiss you but I don't want to pass on my germs."

"You probably already did," I replied with a smirk. "But that's okay. If we do everything else together, we may as well be sick together, too, right?"

So then I kissed him.

Carefully, and on the undamaged side of his mouth so as not to hurt him any more than he was already hurting, but still...I just held my lips gently against his for a long moment, and then slowly pulled away.

"So are you ready to conduct our search?" I asked him.

"Let's do it."

I got out of the car and then met Mike at the hood and together we looked down towards Puccio's house.

"Shit," he muttered. "Check out the Rover."

"I've seen it before," I mumbled. "Don't tell me…"

"Uh huh," he answered as he drew his weapon. "Come on."

I got out my gun and together we hustled down the block, pausing in front of the black Landrover long enough for Mike to set his hand on the hood.

"It's still warm," he commented.

Which meant that Kevin Shaw hadn't been here long.

Hopefully we could get in there before the high-ranking Westie decided to exact revenge on Puccio and his crew.

We could hear voices as we approached the front porch, and it sounded like maybe Shaw had gotten the upper hand on Puccio. It was tempting to just walk away and let him handle it, but I guess I wouldn't be a very good cop if I did that.

"NYPD!" Mike called out as we went up the stairs. "We're coming inside, so if anyone is armed, you need to lay down your weapon!"

We paused for a moment at the door, but then he nodded at me before kicking the door open. I slipped in ahead of him, moving to the right, while he came in right behind me and moved to the left. We've got the technique perfected, and we didn't need to say any words as together we cleared the front of the house and then came upon the rivaling gangsters in the kitchen.

Puccio was on his knees and Shaw was holding a gun to the back of his head.

"Put it down, Kevin," I said calmly. "Let us handle this."

"He killed my boy Devlin," he replied without moving his gun. "An eye for an eye."

"We know," Mike said easily. "We've got the evidence to prove it. He's going to prison."

"DiMarco will find some way to get him out," he argued. "He's slippery like that."

"You think he's gonna let you get away with icing me?" Puccio sneered boldly. "You're as good as dead yourself, Mick."

"No, he's not," Mike asserted. "We're not starting a mob war here, you got me? Kevin, put the gun down and go home."

"Go home?" Puccio shouted. "He comes into _my_ house and puts a fucking gun on me and you think he's just gonna walk out of here? I don't think so."

I watched in surprise as Mike tucked his gun back into its holster and then moved to stand directly in front of Puccio. He squatted down so that he was eye level with him, ignoring the fact that now he was in the line of fire if Shaw decided to pull the trigger.

"This is how this is going to work," Mike said, and his voice came out sounding like a low growl. "Me and my partner are going to search your filthy stench-filled home and once we find the evidence we need to book your sorry ass, we're hauling you in on six counts of murder. In the meantime, Shaw's going home and no one says a damn word about him being here today. Am I understood?"

"Or what?" Puccio asked, but he was intimidated, I could tell. The retort was more for show than anything.

"Or I get my boss on the phone and I tell him how you fucked me over, which by extension, means you fucked _him_ over."

"But I didn't…"

"If you don't do what I say, then that's exactly what you'll be doing. Do you really want to be the guy who fucks my boss over?"

"No," he answered quickly.

Mike got back to his feet and looked at Shaw and said firmly, "Let us handle this. I'm sure there's a Westie or two in Rikers, right?"

"Aye," he said after a moment, and then he clicked the safety on his gun and tucked it into the front of his pants. "I'm hearing you, Logan."

"Good. Go home."

"I can't believe you threatened to call O'Connor," I whispered to Mike an hour later as we poked through the Puccio home. The man himself was handcuffed to a chair in the kitchen, waiting for us to finish our search.

"I never said O'Connor," he replied with a grin, and this time I was happy to see that no fresh blood appeared in the cut on his lip. "I only said my boss. I don't think Ross would like getting fucked over, do you?"

"Definitely not," I said, matching his smile. I glanced down at the drain in the floor of the basement where trace amounts of blood was still visible, and said, "Now, let's haul this guy back to 1PP and get CSU out here. There has to be enough DNA in this basement to pin Puccio to all six murders."

So we arranged for CSU, and then threw Puccio in the backseat of our car and then Mike handed me the keys.

"You drive. I might close my eyes for a minute on the way back."

"Sure," I agreed quickly. "And you know, you were pretty sexy in there, getting all Godfatherish on Puccio."

"You liked that, huh?"

"A lot."

"There's more where that came from."

"Save it for later. For now, I'm going to take us by the morgue. I bet Liz will have something on hand that will make you feel better."

"Like what?"

"She keeps antibiotics."

"Why? She's an ME."

"And she's friends with the likes of you and Bobby," I pointed out, unable to keep from smiling.

"Good point," he replied. "But she's going to want to give me a shot in the ass, isn't she?"

"It works faster that way. Besides, let her get a cheap thrill looking at an ass like yours."

He rolled his eyes at me and then got into the passenger seat, but he didn't argue, which told me that he really was feeling bad.

The fact that he slept all the way back to Manhattan was a good indicator, too.

I texted Liz along the way, and she said she'd be ready for him, so I went straight to the morgue, and as I came to a stop up front, Mike's cell phone rang.

He glanced at it and then handed it to me and said, "Can you take this while I run inside? I'll just be a minute."

We both got out of the car, Mike to go inside and me to take the call from Shane O'Connor.

"I'm coming to New York," he said when I answered.

"Okay, but…why?"

For a minute, I thought maybe Shaw had reported back to him, telling him how Mike was using his name.

But then he said something I wasn't expecting.

"What do you know about the Albanian mafia?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"No. And Logan's name is floating around in the wrong circles, if you get my meaning."

"So you're coming here to…"

"To right the scales, my dear."

"I appreciate the offer, I really do, but we just side-stepped one gang war, and we can't be responsible for starting another one..."

"You didn't start it," he interrupted. "Do you know a man by the name of Jetmir Demachi?"

"Of course."

"He says Logan killed one of his men, and interfered in his business."

"But Mike didn't," I began, and then I stopped myself.

What would be the point in correcting the misconception that Mike had killed the Albanian? Apparently they're already after his head.

"He was just protecting his family," I finished instead.

"I'm on your side, my dear. You don't have to convince me that Logan is an honorable man."

"So what is it that you're going to do?"

"I'm not sure exactly. But I'll tell you one thing. Jetmir Demachi started it, and Shane O'Connor is going to finish it. And then maybe I'll be square once and for all with Casey O'Grady."

I sat for a moment, nonplussed by his insistence on going to bat for Mike, and then I said, "But you don't even know for sure that he's…"

"I _know_. 'Tis nothing your tests will tell me that I can't see with my own two eyes. If you'd met the man, you'd be as sure as me, so trust me, my dear."

"Okay," I conceded, oddly comfortable with the idea of trusting a mobster.

"And I've heard a tale or two about Demachi," he continued. "You're going to be wanting me in New York."

TBC...


	55. Chapter 55

**Ross POV**

* * *

><p>I finally got out of my interminable meeting with the commissioner.<p>

I'm not sure why he thought it would be a good use of my time, to have to spend hours behind closed doors with him telling me everything I'm _not_ doing.

I'm not taking control of the joint investigation.

I'm not keeping a close eye on Major Case.

I'm not following proper procedure.

"_I saw Inspector Shannon in the elevator this morning_," he complained. _"Alone. You know she's a visitor in this building, right?"_

"_She's a United States Marshal with temporary full access,"_ I corrected.

"_She has no respect for the hierarchy in this department," _he said, meaning she hadn't kissed his ass. No surprise there. I can't picture Mary kissing the ass of her own boss, much less someone else's. _"She's running roughshod."_

"_She's getting the job done."_

"_Is she? So you have a suspect?"_

"_It's not about pulling in a suspect. It's about preventing more deaths and avoiding a gang war."_

He'd just started at me blankly for a moment, and then he said, "_When was the last time you were in Major Case?"_

"_Early this morning."_

"_I mean, in the capacity of being the superior officer."_

"_This morning,"_ I repeated. "_I'm in there at least once a day, and I get regular updates."_

"_From the detectives."_

Who else?

"_That's right."_

"_So the inmates are running the prison."_

"_Inmates? The detectives in Major Case are the cream of the crop. You and I discussed this before_ _I accepted the chief position, and you agreed that I would handle both duties."_

"_But are you? Handling both duties?"_

"_Do you want me to give you a rundown of the cases that have been solved in the last month alone? I'd wager to guess that our numbers are better now than they've ever been."_

"_Uh huh. Because of the Gorens?"_

"_Among others,"_ I said with a nod.

"_But mostly the Gorens. Which is why you cleared the female Goren so quickly after she gunned a man down, is that right? Because she makes your department look good?"_

Up until that point, I'd been doing a decent job of keeping my temper in check, but that was the final straw.

"_She was cleared quickly because any idiot could see that it was a good shoot. She was in her own bathroom, confronted by a gang member armed with an M-16. You want me to take her badge away for protecting herself?"_

"_Settle down, Danny. I just don't want to see you showing favoritism."_

"_IAB agrees with me. CSU agrees with me. The ME…"_

"_You mean your wife?"_

"_Are you accusing her of being anything other than professional?"_

"_I'm not accusing anyone of anything. I'm simply saying that Detective Goren was cleared in a matter of hours."_

"_Which is how the system should work when an incident is so black and white."_

We haggled back and forth for a while longer, and then he ended the meeting.

"_We should catch up like this more often, Danny,"_ he said good-naturedly as I headed for the door. As though we were just a couple of guys, out for beers.

"_Sure,"_ I answered noncommittally.

"_Good. It's set then. Once a week."_

Great.

Something to look forward to.

Because really, I love everything else about my job, but dealing with the commissioner…it's just tedious.

I wonder if that's how my detectives feel about having to deal with me.

Hopefully not.

Or at least, hopefully not anymore.

"_Hey,_" I said suddenly as I stood in the doorway. "_I want to bring in two more detectives."_

"_To the department? Or to Major Case?"_

"_Major Case. I've got four spots in the budget, but I only want two. You can reallocate the other two salaries to another department."_

"_Your numbers are good. You said so yourself. Why shouldn't I just reallocate all four salaries?"_

"_Because my detectives are working themselves to death. Two more will help ease the load."_

"_Then why not take all four and ease the load even more?"_

Why does the man have to be so difficult?

I held back a sigh and said, _"It's a close-knit group. It's about making the right fit."_

"_So you have two specific detectives in mind,"_ he stated.

"_Yes. From the 2-7."_

"_Poaching more from Van Buren? She'll love that_," he said in amusement. "_Sure, whatever you want, Danny. But you have to get Anita to be okay with it. I don't want to field any irate phone calls from her."_

"_Yes, sir,"_ I agreed, and then I closed the door.

I'm not sure why I feel so strongly about pulling Eames and Hayes into the fold so quickly, but I do.

Maybe because I appreciate their willingness to get the job done.

Discreetly.

As far as I can tell, no one else knew about Liz's case until she started talking about it.

That's pretty impressive.

As I headed for the elevator, I pulled out my cell phone and realized that I'd had it on silent.

Two missed texts.

The first was from Liz.

_**I called my old roommate and she's in the city. I'm going to meet her for lunch.**_

Interesting.

I was curious about this woman, and impressed that Liz had been able to find her so quickly.

Although I guess maybe she wasn't hiding.

The second text was from Detective Hayes.

_**Jeremy is with me and Eames. Nothing dangerous – just a look-see in Washington Heights.**_

I'd just gone to bat for them, and now they were taking my son on a ride-along?

I immediately dialed her number, but it went to voicemail.

"This is Chief Ross. Call me back."

Then I called Eames.

Voicemail.

What were they thinking?

Jeremy's a college kid, interning as a gopher. He doesn't belong out on the streets.

I dialed Jeremy's phone.

Voicemail.

All the way to the morgue, I continued dialing the trio of numbers, to no avail.

My apprehension was through the roof.

_What if something happens to him?  
><em>

And then I stopped myself.

Hayes and Eames are excellent detectives.

They're not going to let anything happen to him.

I took a deep breath and went into the autopsy suite, but it was empty. I saw that the blinds were drawn on her office windows, which she typically only does when she's out, so I opened the door to go inside with the intention of leaving her a note.

And there was Mike Logan.

Pulling up his pants.

"Oh, hey, boss," he said casually as he zipped up and then started tucking in his shirt.

"What…what…"

"I was giving him a shot," Liz explained from her position directly behind Logan.

Entirely _too_ close behind him as far as I'm concerned, since moments ago his pants were on the floor.

"A shot?" I repeated as I stared at him suspiciously.

"Yeah," Logan answered. "Your wife's a lifesaver. Otherwise _my_ wife would probably have me in an ER right about now."

I shifted my gaze to Liz, who tossed a syringe into the biohazard bin and then pulled off her gloves.

"How'd your meeting go?" Liz asked me casually. "Oh, and did you get my text?"

"Yeah. And fine."

Logan picked up his suit jacket and slipped it on and then said, "Well, Carolyn's waiting outside with our mass murderer, so I'd better go. Thanks again, Doc."

Carolyn's outside?

I didn't even see her. I guess I was a little preoccupied.

"Any time," Liz answered and then she opened a cabinet and pulled out a few packets of antibiotics. "Here. They're sample packs, but there's enough here to finish out the course. Unless you want to come back every day for another shot…"

"I'll take the pills," he said with a grin as he took the packets from her.

_Damn right you'll take the pills_, I thought.

He tucked them into his pocket and then slapped me on the shoulder as he passed by me on his way out the door, and I couldn't help but let my gaze follow him as he walked across the autopsy suite.

"I wasn't expecting to see you so soon," Liz said after he was gone.

"Obviously. You had to give him a shot in the ass?"

"It works faster that way," she replied carefully. "He looks like hell and you know him…he won't quit working any time soon. What's the problem?"

"Doesn't he have a doctor?"

"Yeah. He does. Me. Danny…"

"Never mind," I said, shaking my head as I tried to expel the image of Liz putting her hand on Logan's ass.

She would've sterilized the injection site, right? She'd have rubbed the alcohol swab on him, then kept a hand on him to hold him steady…

"No, not never mind," she retorted, staring at me incredulously. "Are you seriously jealous of Mike?"

"I'm not supposed to be jealous when I walk into your office and find a man zipping up his pants?" I fired back.

"I was giving him a shot!" she yelled. "And he's our friend. What's wrong with you? Oh, wait…I get it. All of that talk about leopards and spots, that was all bullshit, right? Now you know that I cheated on a guy with his best friend, you think I'm going to do it again, is that it?"

"No, I didn't mean that," I argued as it hit me that I'd just made a critical error.

I let my insecurities out in the open, which while under normal circumstances might not be such a bad thing, at the present time it was disastrous.

Liz slammed the cabinet door shut and then grabbed her purse from the counter top before turning on me with a look that had me taking a step backwards.

"Yes, you did," she sharply. "I should've known you wouldn't be able to handle the truth about me."

"Liz, I can," I replied weakly. "One thing doesn't have anything to do with the other. I trust you."

"Then why are you so ticked that I stuck a needle in Mike's butt? Is it because the blinds are closed? Do you think we were trying to knock out a quickie under the guise of doctor-patient confidentiality? For God's sake, Danny, I wasn't in here comparison shopping. The man is sick and he's hurting and he asked for my help _and_ he didn't need to have any of my assistants watching him through the window."

"I know. You're right. I'm sorry."

"You're only saying that now because I'm pissed off," she retorted in irritation. She checked her watch and said, "I've got somewhere I need to be, so maybe I'll see you later."

_Maybe_?

"Liz, wait…I…have you heard from Jeremy?"

"Why? What's wrong?" she asked, her voice instantly softening.

"Nothing, I don't think. He…um…he went out with Hayes and Eames on some kind of lead, and I can't get them on their phones. Do you know where they went?"

"No," she said as she reached in her purse. "But I trust Lauren to look out for him, don't you?"

She dialed and then held her phone up to her ear, looking at me as she said, "No, you probably don't. You don't trust anyone, do you?"

"Liz, I…"

"Jeremy?" she said, waving a hand at me to get me to stop talking. "Where are you?"

I watched her as she listened to my son, and her expression told me that everything must be fine, so that was when the nausea rolled in.

I'd made a complete mess of things.

Logan isn't after Liz.

And Liz wouldn't reciprocate even if he were.

_Would she?_

My lingering doubt is the source of my jealousy.

Because I have a hard time believing that I can compete with a man like him.

I mean, I _like_ him.

He's a good man and I've really come to appreciate that he's intelligent as well as intuitive.

And he's funny. Like Liz.

And physically-speaking…

"He's fine," Liz said as she hung up the phone. "They're in Washington Heights, trying to track down the source of the second hack."

"Why didn't they answer their phones earlier?"

"I don't know. Maybe they went through a bad reception spot."

"Okay, but why on earth did they take him with them?"

"He said it was because he's the one who came up with the possible theory that they're running down. They're trying to treat him like an equal, to help him learn," she told me with no small amount of condescension. "You're keeping a tighter rein on him now than you did when he really _was_ a kid."

I let out a long frustrated breath as a headache started taking up residence behind my eyes.

"You're right."

"Yes, I am. Now I really need to go."

She turned away from me, her shoulders still rigid and the absence of any kind of goodbye prevalent.

"Liz…"

She stopped and then slowly turned around, looking at me with sad, tired eyes.

"I know you wouldn't cheat on me," I said.

"Okay."

"I mean it. My reaction was childish and unfounded and…I'm sorry."

She stared at me for a minute and then shook her head and said, "You know, I might've expected that kind of reaction a year ago, but now…he's your _friend_. And you're not that guy anymore, so…I don't know. But I can't think about it right now. I have to meet up with Cecilia's birth mother and try to talk her into coming forward."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No."

Ouch.

Not that I deserved an invitation, but still…

"She doesn't know you," she continued. "And this is going to be a delicate conversation. But thank you for the offer."

"So we're…okay?"

She looked at me skeptically for a moment and then shrugged and said, "I think maybe we both just need a good night's sleep. If I don't talk to you sooner, I'll see you tonight at home."

And on that note, she turned and left.

TBC...


	56. Chapter 56

**Mary POV**

* * *

><p>"I need a glass of wine. No, a carafe. Or a bottle. Let's go with a great big bottle of wine. Or a box. Do you have boxes of wine?"<p>

The waitress looked at me like I've lost my mind, and she might very well be right.

"Oh, just bring me a beer," I corrected. "Do you have anything bigger than a pint?"

"We have twenty-two ounce glasses," she answered.

"Great. Bring me two of those."

"What kind? We have Bud, Bud Light, Miller Light, Sam Adams…"

"You pick," I interrupted as I fought the urge to pull my gun.

Because no, it isn't her fault that this has been a day from hell, but really…couldn't she take a hint that I just wanted alcohol?

Large amounts of potent alcohol.

And speaking of potent…

"Bring me a shot of Cuervo, too," I added. And then when I saw Carolyn and Mike come through the door, I said, "Make it three."

"Ma'am, I can't bring you two beers and three shots at one time."

"I'll have help," I told her, nodding in the direction of my soon-to-be in-laws who were making their way toward the table.

"You got room for us?" Mike asked as he eyeballed the ten or so empty chairs around the table.

I wasn't sure about the size of our group tonight. In fact, I hadn't even asked anyone.

But sometimes people just show up. Although after the night we had _last_ night, I wasn't really expecting anyone.

"I think we can squeeze you in," I said as I leaned back in the chair and motioned to the empty spot next to me. "How'd you know I'd be here?"

"It was a pretty safe bet," Mike said with a shrug.

"And we called John," Carolyn added.

"I should've known."

"Which, by the way, he said to tell you that he's on his way."

"It's about damn time," I grumbled, even though I'd had no expectations of John's arrival time. I just _miss_ him. I looked up at Mike, who seemed to be swaying slightly, and I said, "Sit down before you fall down, Mike. You look like shit."

"I can always count on you to make me feel good about myself," he joked.

"He's flirting with strep," Carolyn supplied. "On top of everything else. Nice, huh?"

"Very," I agreed as the waitress came back, loaded down with drinks. We were quiet for a minute as she served them up and then once she was gone, I said, "So please tell me your day was better than mine."

"Well, we arrested an Italian mobster who was offing the Irish in an attempt to take over their territory."

"Your island case. So that's all cleared up?"

"He's not confessing to anything, but he damn near peed his pants when Mike got all Tony Soprano on him."

"Really?" I asked in amusement. "Impressive. I might have to see that some time."

"Whack a few Irish, and maybe I'll pull it out."

"Do they have to be Irish? Because I'm a little itchy to take out some Albanians."

"How's that going?" Carolyn asked as Jennifer arrived at the table.

We'd come into the bar together, but then she'd mentioned something about needing to make a phone call, and she'd disappeared down the back hall.

"Tell them how our case is going, Austin," I said as I picked up the shot of tequila. She glanced over at me, and I smiled and added, "Or you can tell us all about your phone call."

"Who'd you call?" Mike asked immediately, picking up on the fact that I was teasing her.

"No one. It's nothing," she said as she waved to the waitress and then pointed at my shot glass and held up four fingers. "Okay, so…the case."

And then she and I proceeded to tag-team the recount of our day while simultaneously downing a few twenty-twos and several shots of tequila.

"Lupo and Bernard found the van."

"And?"

"They nearly had a gunfight right out on Metropolitan, in Kew."

"I'm guessing they're both fine since we're here instead of at the hospital," Carolyn said with concern.

"Yeah, but it was crazy," Jennifer said, catching my eye.

And it was.

Instead of pulling weapons, the three men decided to take their chances on foot.

As Jennifer and I neared the scene, we came across Lupo in pursuit of two of the suspects, all three of them running hellbent for leather down the sidewalk. Then suddenly, one of them made a hard right, causing Lupo to check his speed as he tried to decide which one to follow.

But then Jennifer opened up the car door, ready to jump out before I'd even slowed down to single digits.

"_Hang on_," I'd instructed as I slammed down on the brakes, but she hopped out of the car while it was still moving, pulling her gun out at the same time.

And really, I need to ask her about that move. It was pretty remarkable.

"_I've got him! Check on Bernard_!" she yelled at me as she hit the ground running. She waved Lupo after the suspect who'd gone straight, and she went after the other one.

I kept driving until I got to the van, but the area was deserted.

Or at least, deserted of cops and criminals.

"_Who saw something_?" I shouted loudly as I held up my badge.

"_They all took off running_," one guy said reluctantly.

"_Which direction_?"

He pointed in two directions – the way from which I'd just come, and across the street towards an apartment building.

"_One guy went into the building?"_

"_Yeah, and a big guy was chasing him_."

A black and white came screeching to a halt as I took off toward the apartment building, hoping to help Bernard, and I called out to the officer, "_Nobody touches that van!"_

Fifteen minutes later, I finally came across Bernard. He was in the basement of the apartment building, slowly easing through the myriad of ductwork, water heaters, and piles of crap.

"_Hey,_" I whispered to him, pre-empting having him point his gun at me. He nodded and then pointed towards a throng of broken washing machines. I nodded and we fanned out, coming at the guy's hiding place from two angles.

"_Come on out_," Bernard called out.

"_Fuck you!"_

"_There's no way out, dumb ass_," I told him. "_Why don't you just make it easy on all of us?"_

And he did.

He shot himself.

Although when I said that he made it easy on all of us, I really only mean that he made it easy on him.

For me and Bernard, it meant that we had to call in CSU and an IAB team and the ME and then we had to give statements as to what had happened.

It really wasn't easy, and it was so damn pointless.

I mean, what's a little jail time amongst gangsters?

By the time we got back to the van, Lupo and Jennifer were both waiting for us, each with their suspect in tow.

So we searched the van and then we took the other two suspects back to 1PP, where Bobby and Alex were chomping at the bit, waiting for me.

"_We need to talk to Christina."_

"_And I need to talk to these two mopes,"_ I countered.

"_Mary…"_ Bobby said, and in those two little syllables, I could ascertain that he had something.

Something big.

"_Okay, Austin,"_ I said, putting faith in my partner. _"You're point. Put them both in a room. You take one and give Lupo and Bernard the other."_

"_But…"_

"_You can't handle it?"_

"_I can,"_ she said quickly.

"_McInnis and Daniels are here," _Alex told me.

"_Good,"_ I replied. _"What other leg work needs doing?"_

"_We need security footage from sixteen weeks ago_," Alex answered quickly. "_From three different hotels."_

"_Three?"_ I asked.

She nodded and said, "_The details are on my desk_."

I looked at Jennifer and said, "_Get McInnis and Daniels on that. We're going out. When I get back, I want all of the footage, and confessions from both mobsters, got it?"_

"_Absolutely,"_ she agreed quickly.

"_You're training her to be the boss," _Alex commented as the three of us went down in the elevator. "_Even after she pissed you off this morning."_

"_Maybe because she pissed me off,"_ I replied. _"She's got the makings to be a better boss than me, that's for sure."_

Although I didn't relay that part of the conversation to Mike and Carolyn. Not while Jennifer was listening.

"_You don't give yourself enough credit," _Alex replied.

"_Or I give myself too much credit. So how's the head?" _I asked Bobby.

"_Still attached."_

_"Uh huh. And you're really okay with him working?"_

Alex sighed and shook her head before saying, _"It was either this or handcuff him to the bed."_

_"What? You didn't tell me that was an option_," Bobby teased.

"_And I see your sense of humor is intact,"_ I remarked with a smirk. _"Good. Okay, so…what's so pressing about Christina?"_

_"We think she's playing you. She doesn't want to testify. She just doesn't want to be on the outside while she's waiting for her baby to be born."_

I hoped like hell they were wrong because if they weren't, I was going to kill her.

She had no intention of going through with her testimony?

Honestly, even _with_ her testimony, I wasn't sure if she was worth the trouble, but without it…I was ready to kick her out of the program.

Of course, that would spell certain death for her, but still…am I supposed to feel bad about that after the death and turmoil she's caused?

"_Who'd you see at the Maritime?_" Alex asked her as soon as we entered the safe house.

"_I don't know what you're talking about."_

Bobby started to speak, but Alex stepped in front of him, and I could just imagine how angry she was feeling.

Angry and protective.

I wasn't about to get in her way and apparently neither was Bobby.

"_We pulled your credit card statements, Christina. Did you really think we wouldn't find it?"_

"_What? Oh, that. I like to have dinner there sometimes."_

"_Except the charges aren't for the restaurant. They're for the hotel. And they aren't enough to be for a room, so you know what I did? I called and asked them to check it out. It was room service."_

Christina stared blankly for a minute and then she held up a hand, her signal for _I'm about to puke_.

"_That's not going to cut it today_," Alex said sharply, grabbing up a trashcan and shoving it into her hand. "_You can just stand here and puke and in between you can answer my questions."_

"_But…"_

"_Who…did you see…at the Maritime_?" Alex asked again as she encroached upon her personal space, and if I didn't know her better, I would've been scared to death of her.

"_I didn't…it was…I mean…you don't understand!"_

"_I understand that you were sleeping with Rama and Demachi both. That was a dangerous game you were playing, and then you upped the stakes even more by throwing another guy into the mix."_

"_I didn't love those other guys."_

"_But you loved this one? Who is he? And if you loved him, then why did it only last two weeks?"_

"_She's lying again,"_ Bobby said quietly. "_Do you even know how to do anything else?"_

"_I know how to survive,_" she replied pointedly.

"_Maybe, but you've made one critical mistake_," Alex told her. "_You assumed that your only enemies were out there. But after all of your lies and deception, and the pain you've caused by extension…you'll be lucky if I manage to walk out of here today without taking you out."_

"_But…but…I'm pregnant!"_

"_And that's the only truth you've told us. If you want to live, you need to start from there and keep going. Who's the father?"_

"Well?" Mike asked me when I paused in my tale.

"John's here," I said and my eyes settled on my fiancé as he made his way across the room.

And man, did that just make everything bad about my day go away.

Earlier, I thought I needed alcohol.

Apparently, all I needed was to see John.

"So?" Mike retorted. "You're getting to the good part."

"Yes, I am," I said as I stood up, wrapping my arms around John.

"We don't really know much more," I heard Jennifer say apologetically. "Christina started hurling and hyperventilating and Mary had to take her to the doctor."

"And your suspects?"

"Lawyered up. Both of them."

"Huh," Carolyn remarked while I continued to enjoy the comforting feel of John's arms around me. "Well, that's kind of a let down."

My point exactly.

Progress followed by periods of stagnancy.

"I missed you," John whispered.

"Right back at you," I told him.

"So one guy was freaked out enough to off himself, and the other two stayed cool and lawyered up?" Carolyn summarized, clearly still nonplussed about the lack of additional information.

"Uh huh. Weird, isn't it?" Jennifer remarked while John and I continued to ignore everyone at the table.

Because being in his arms is just so much better than...well, anything really.

"What's weird is when people stand right next to a table and carry on with an obnoxious public display of affection," Mike commented.

And I didn't have to look at him to know that he was smiling.

"What are you even doing here, Mike? Aren't you sick?" I retorted, finally stepping back from John so that we could sit down.

"I came to unwind with you," he answered.

He can be so charming sometimes.

Most of the time, really.

"And we're meeting someone," Carolyn added.

"Who?"

"John," she answered with a smile. "He got us a room at his hotel. Bobby and Alex, too. It looks like we'll all be crashing at your place tonight, Mary."

"Thanks to the Albanians," Mike said, rolling his eyes. "You know Shane O'Connor's on his way down here."

"The Irish mob boss?" Jennifer asked.

"Yes, and he's also apparently my guardian angel. He got word that Demachi was talking me up."

"You? How'd he get your name so fast?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm getting the credit for Montoya's murder. And O'Connor's got people with ears to the ground, so if he says that the threat is real, well…I believe him."

"Which is why you're staying at my place until this whole thing is taken care of," John said as he handed over a packet containing room keys.

"We appreciate it," Carolyn told him. "Hopefully it won't be for long."

"However long you need. What about you?" he asked, turning to Jennifer.

"Oh, I'm in luxury accommodations, courtesy of the marshal service. My roomies are there waiting for me, I'm sure."

"McInnis and Daniels already went back?" I asked her. I guess I'd expected that those two would show up here so that she could go back with them.

"Yeah, they were both tired. And actually, I think I'm about ready to head back myself."

No one pointed out that it was barely six o'clock. Not after the night we'd had last night.

Instead, I simply said, "Not alone."

"No one followed us here," she said as she stood up from the table. "Which means that no one can follow me away from here. I'll be fine. I'll get a cab instead of the train, okay?"

"I'm still not crazy about it," I insisted. But she was right. If we weren't followed here, then she'd be fine. And if they followed us here, then they were a whole lot better than I was giving them credit for. "But okay. Text me when you get back to the house."

"I will. I have a stop to make first, but I'll keep you in the loop."

She said goodnight, and after putting a twenty down on the table, she headed for the door.

"So…Bobby and Alex are coming here?" I asked Mike.

They hadn't mentioned it when I left them earlier at 1PP.

Although, I guess they didn't know at the time that Mike's house was no longer safe.

"They should be here any minute. Alex said they weren't going to stay, but we're all going to ride together over to the hotel."

"Good. You know, if everyone just behaves themselves, we might all get eight hours of sleep tonight."

"Oh, come on!" Mike complained, tossing a balled up napkin at me. "Nice going, Mary."

"What?"

"You had to say it out loud," he continued.

"You just jinxed it," Carolyn added.

"There's no such thing. Me saying it won't have any bearing on whether or not it happens."

"Maybe, maybe not," Mike said. "But if I don't get my beauty sleep, I'm coming to find you."

TBC...


	57. Chapter 57

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>"If I fall asleep, wake me up."<p>

"Not a chance."

"Alex…"

"You need to sleep."

"Yes, I do," I agreed. "But I need to do something else first."

I gave her what I hoped was my most suggestive look and then I laid down on my back, sideways across the bed.

"Do you need any medicine?" she asked as she reached out to touch my forehead with one hand while she held the phone in the other.

"Not yet. It'll just make me more sleepy. Go. Finish your call," I encouraged.

Because Liz had called her as we unlocked the door to the hotel suite, and from the sound of Alex's end of the conversation, it was something important.

My nearly desperate need to make love to her could wait a few more minutes.

But I won't say it isn't killing me.

Because what if I'm remembering wrong?

What if she looks different, or feels different than what's now in my head?

I have to know.

I have to have physical proof to back up my mental acuity.

"What are you going to do?" I heard Alex say from the other room.

I closed my eyes and tried not to think about how my head was thumping along with the beat of my heart.

"This is harder than it needs to be," Alex said.

And maybe it's because of my mood, or maybe it's just because she's in the other room, trying to be quiet because she thinks I'm going to sleep, but her voice sounded soft and seductive and her choice of words caused me to instantly go back to the beginning stages of our relationship.

Or at least, the beginning of the sexual aspect of our relationship.

Our dirty texting.

It was two days after the night of our…mutual solo gratification.

She hadn't brought it up again, and neither did I.

Mostly because I was afraid that it was only me who'd…taken the bull by the horn, so to speak.

Because the next day, the first text she sent me was something about a case.

_**Do you remember that guy from the church fire case? He's up for parole.**_

And then she'd complained about Ross.

_**He's being a complete ass. I think maybe Liz broke up with him.**_

And from there, we went back to chatting like partners.

Like friends.

Certainly not like two people who'd exchanged x-rated texts.

And after two days of me wondering about the status of our relationship, and pondering how she truly feels about me, and thinking that I must have completely misread the situation the other night, or that maybe she'd been intoxicated and not thinking straight…after all of those thoughts, I sent her a text, fully prepared to let her off the hook.

If nothing but friendship was in the cards for us, then I'd learn how to live with it, but I didn't want it to be awkward for us because keeping her as a friend was vital.

_**Is this going to be too hard?**_

And sure, my question was vague, but I figured she'd either be on the same page and would know exactly what I meant, or she'd question me, asking what I was talking about.

Instead, I got an unexpected response.

_**Is there such a thing?**_

Was she saying that our relationship would be worth the hard work?

Meaning…she thought about it as work?

That kind of proved my point.

It shouldn't be hard.

It should be fun and exciting and rewarding…

_**So you think it's hard?**_

I sat there with the phone in my hand, waiting for her reply while debating my next course of action.

Because if she thinks it's too much work, then I was going to have to let her go.

She deserves better than that.

Better than me.

_**You're two thousand miles away. You're going to have to tell me. Is it hard?**_

And let me tell you…even though it wasn't when I started texting with her, as soon as I read the latest message, it most definitely was.

I went from considering letting her off the hook, thinking that she wasn't up for the challenge of dealing with me, to being fully aroused.

But how was I supposed to respond to that?

Was she inviting a repeat of the other night?

Or what if she was still talking about our relationship, and not being dirty at all?

Because really…the distinction was important.

If I said yes and she was talking about the relationship, then she'd think I was unhappy with the direction we were heading, but if I said no and she was talking about…certain parts of me, then she'd think I'm not aroused by her and that couldn't be further from the truth…

And while I deliberated my response, she sent a follow-up text.

_**Are you having trouble typing with only one hand?**_

Such an Alex thing to say, and I could perfectly picture the smirk that surely accompanied the remark.

I was dying to hear what she would say next.

_**Why, what is it you think I'm doing with my other hand?**_

And then I sat, practically buzzing with anticipation while I waited for her reply.

It only took her a moment to respond, and it wasn't a speculation of what I was doing, but more a suggestion of what she wanted me to do.

And what she'd be doing in the meantime.

I never would've guessed her to be so forward and it made me wish that I was back in New York.

I decided that I might have to cut my trip short.

Although what if it's weird when I get back?

Maybe I needed to enjoy what we have while we have it.

And that night, I definitely did.

The night after that, too.

And I _did_ cut my trip short, but by then I was a nervous mess about seeing her in person.

But I realized later why she'd made a point of having normal-type conversations with me, intermixed with our sexting.

It wasn't because she was second-guessing what we'd done.

It was specifically to keep it from being awkward.

We've always been friends, and it was important to keep that aspect rolling along like always even while we were wading into the pool of a more intimate relationship.

She's pretty smart, my Alex.

And sexy and beautiful…and how long is she going to be on the phone?

I opened my eyes and found that the bedroom was mostly dark.

And Alex was lying next to me.

I'd never even heard her come in, which meant that I'd fallen asleep while reliving our cross-country interlude.

"You didn't wake me up," I stated, and I began to turn towards her, but the pain in my ribs took my breath and halted my movements.

"I was going to," she replied, sitting up and looking at me with concern. "But you looked so peaceful."

"That's because I was dreaming about you."

"Let me get you something for the pain, and then I'll help you out of those clothes."

"Let's do it the other way around."

"Bobby…"

"You promised. Are you really going to break your word?" I asked lightly. "Or is it just that I don't turn you on anymore?"

"You know better than that," she admonished.

And as my eyes adjusted to the low-light in the room, I realized that she'd already changed clothes.

Earlier, Ross had ordered a uniform to go into our crime-scene apartment and get the duffle bag that Alex had packed, in addition to pulling a couple of my suits from the closet.

It would've been nice if we could've finished packing for ourselves, but it was most everything we needed, and it saved us from going back there just yet.

So even though she'd surely packed her own sleepwear, she was currently dressed in one of my t-shirts.

And I'm guessing nothing else, although I'm going to have to test out that theory, just to be sure.

As she sat on her knees next to me, feeling my forehead to once again gauge my temperature, I ran my hand up her thigh, beneath the hem of the t-shirt.

"You don't feel warm," she concluded.

"You, on the other hand, couldn't get much hotter," I replied, happy to find that my hypothesis was correct.

She smiled at me, running her hand lightly over my cheek and then down to the loosely knotted tie still around my neck.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?"

"Why you're willing to risk your health for the chance to make love to me. It's not a limited-time offer, Bobby. I'm not going anywhere."

She undid the tie and then slid it from around my neck before going to work on the buttons of my shirt.

Me, I just kept running my hand beneath her shirt, content to let her get me out of my clothes.

"I'm not risking my health," I argued. "And I really…I need to…I can't stand that I…"

"You're afraid the memory isn't real," she finished knowingly.

"Well, I did fantasize about you for quite some time before I actually had you, so…how can I know for sure unless…"

I stopped talking when she sat back and pulled the t-shirt over her head.

In fact, I almost stopped breathing for a moment, too.

I started to sit up, wanting to wrap my arms around her and feel her pressed up against me, but she put her hand gently on my chest and said, "Lay still."

Then, at an excruciatingly tortuous, leisurely pace, she finished undressing me.

"What do you think?" she asked as she got back onto her knees next to me. "Is this ringing any bells?"

"I don't remember you being so slow," I teased. "You're absolutely killing me here."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?"

She eased her leg over me, straddling my waist, and then she leaned down to kiss me.

I immediately wrapped my arms around her, pulling her down against my chest, and the pain caused by the weight of her against my sore ribs…it was nothing compared to the exquisite feel of holding her in my arms.

And since I'd been good…laying still while she undressed me…it was my turn to take control.

So I did.

Well, sort of.

I wanted to roll us over so that I could taste every inch of her and then push into her with every ounce of passion that I feel for her, but I do have my limitations.

But I kissed her with everything I have, cataloging the taste of her and the feel of her skin under my fingertips and then she sat back, shifting slightly so that she could take me in completely and there was nothing slow about her pace anymore and the maelstrom of sensations was almost overwhelming.

Almost.

But as I settled my hands on her thighs, gripping them as I urged an even faster rhythm, I bit down on my lip in an effort to deter the inevitable, at least just for a little while.

Because she feels too good and I'm not sure that anything in my bank of memories compares to this and maybe it's only because I ran the risk of forgetting that makes me love her even more…I don't know.

But I do know that I managed to hold out for a while.

Long enough that I got to watch her face as she reached the peak, her face flushed and her eyes closed, and I can't think of a more beautiful sight.

Or a more perfect sound than her voice saying my name in a reverent whisper.

It was almost enough to take me over the edge with her.

Almost.

But the second time it happened, I couldn't hold back any longer.

When we finished, she started to move away, obviously not wanting to lay across my chest, but I pulled her down anyway.

Like I said, the feel of her is worth whatever discomfort I might feel.

And honestly, I'm not sure if my ribs even hurt anymore. I know my head doesn't.

Alex is like a miracle drug.

"So what do you think?" she asked after we spent several minutes just breathing.

"About…"

"Was that as good as you remembered?"

"It was so much better. And believe me…in my mind, it was already pretty damn good."

I could feel her smile against my chest, and I ran my hand over her hair as I added, "So…when can we do that again? I mean, what if I have memory lapses?"

"You're going to be using that for a while, aren't you?" she asked.

"Maybe. Is it going to work?"

"Maybe."

I kissed the top of her head and then asked, "So what's going on with Liz? Is she okay?"

"She met up with her college roommate today."

I'd been getting bits and pieces about the latest happenings in Liz's life, but it felt like forever since we'd had the time to actually sit down and talk with her.

We'd have to fix that, and hopefully soon.

"The one who used her ID?"

"Right. I guess Lauren and Sean were able to find the daughter, and now they're tracking someone they think is attempting the blackmail, and…"

"Wait, so it's not the same person?"

"They don't think so. Supposedly the daughter, Cecilia, is in Boston, and the blackmail attempts and additional hacks were coming from Washington Heights. Mulder's been helping."

"Huh. Okay, so did Liz meet with the roommate?"

"Yeah."

"And?"

"She's denying all knowledge."

"Wait, she's what? How can she do that?"

"She says there's no proof. It's only Liz's word against hers."

"And DNA."

"But how would anyone get it? She's not committing a crime by denying that she had a baby she gave up for adoption. And since it was Liz's ID that was used, there's no concrete evidence that it was anyone other than Liz. And even though Liz can run a DNA comparison to prove that it's _not_ her, no one can force the other woman to be tested."

"Which means that Cecilia will never get to find her real mother."

"Unless Liz tells her the truth."

"That even thirty years later her mother doesn't want to have anything to do with her? I'm not sure if that's the best thing to do."

"I'm not either. Liz is undecided, too. I think she just needed to talk things through with someone to try to sort out her thoughts."

"Where's Ross?"

"Oh, well…" she said, chuckling a little.

"What?"

"Liz is mad at him."

"Why?"

"Apparently Ross walked in on her giving Mike a shot."

"So?"

"In the ass," she clarified. "Mike was pulling up his pants when Ross opened the door, and I guess he got jealous. She said he was a real jerk about it, and he only apologized when she got mad."

"He's just insecure. He trusts her. He doesn't want to suffer from comparison, that's all."

"You're taking his side?" she asked in surprise.

"No, I'm not. I'm just saying…it's understandable."

"So you wouldn't be okay with me seeing Mike's ass for job-related purposes."

"What possible job-related purpose could he have for dropping his pants in front of you?"

"Yeah, okay. Maybe not. But I kissed him once. Remember? And you were fine with it."

"I struggled with the same initial reaction that Ross apparently gave in to," I admitted. "No man wants to think about coming up on the short end of the stick."

"There's nothing short about your stick," she said with a smirk. "And if I recall, you kissed Carolyn to make it even."

"Yes, I did. So you think we should tell Ross to drop his pants in front of Carolyn?"

She laughed and said, "To settle the score?"

"Something like that."

"No way."

"Yeah, I suppose that would be a little juvenile, huh?"

"It's not that. I just like Carolyn too much to put her through that," she said, still chuckling. "And that reminds me…how was that kiss anyway?"

"Between me and Carolyn?"

"Yeah. I mean…do you remember it like it was yesterday, or are you going to be hitting her up for a refresher course, too?"

"You don't need to worry about that."

"Because you already remember it perfectly?"

"Because the only memories I need to preserve are the ones involving you."

TBC...


	58. Chapter 58

**Cutter POV**

* * *

><p>I should've gone.<p>

To McNally's, I mean.

Jennifer called a little while ago to tell me that she and Mary were having a couple of drinks. And then she asked me to come by.

"_I'm still working_," I told her. "_I have to perfect my opening statement for trial tomorrow."_

"_I'm sure it's already perfect, but if you'd really rather work than have a drink with me…"_

"_So now you're suggesting that I'm crazy as well as arrogant and self-centered?"_ I teased.

"_I never said that you're crazy."_

"_I'd have to be to choose work over seeing you,"_ I replied easily and the flirtatiousness of my own words caught me completely by surprise.

What is it about her that turns me into such a romantic?

I shouldn't be so outspoken.

We haven't even had a date yet.

But we've been talking on the phone.

She called first thing this morning…twice, actually, since we got interrupted the first time.

And then again tonight to invite me to come out.

"_So come_," she'd said softly. "_Just for a little while_."

But that was when Jack had come into my office, demanding a synopsis of my trial strategy, and I'd had to cut the call short.

I couldn't let my boss think I was seriously considering ditching my trial prep so that I could have a drink with a woman I barely know.

_Barely know and yet already kissed_, I amended as I stared blankly out my office window.

Maybe that's why I can't stop thinking about her.

My experiences lately almost entirely consist of women met for the sole purpose of stress relief. Conversation was limited and superficial.

That probably makes me sound bad, but in my line of work, it's tough to maintain any kind of relationship. Or at least, it's tough to find someone interesting enough to make me want to.

I'd thought that maybe Anna would be different.

We had decent conversations.

But every time I kissed her, I felt like she already had one foot out the door.

Like she wanted to be somewhere else.

And I guess she did, only she didn't respect me enough to tell me the truth.

But last night when I kissed Jennifer…nothing about her response made me think she wanted to be anywhere other than exactly where she was.

So maybe it's the idea that I like talking to her _and_ kissing her that makes her so appealing.

And looking at her, too.

And her voice…that slow, easy drawl…I could listen to her all night.

_Slow down, Mike_, I chastised.

I wasn't going to be doing anything with Jennifer all night long…not any time soon.

I turned around towards my desk and picked up my baseball glove, sliding it onto my hand as I plucked the ball from the webbing and began tossing it into the air as I went over my asservation.

"Malcolm Jackson is a killer. And the evidence in this case will show you that the people in this world who think they know him best actually know him the least. On April 12th, Mr. Jackson walked into the 7-11 on 82nd with the sole intent of…"

I stopped when I saw a reflection in the window, and I quickly turned around, surprised to find Jennifer standing in my office doorway.

"Don't stop there. You've got me ready to vote for a conviction," she said with a smile.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, you know…I feel kind of bad that you're stuck up here working while the rest of us are out drinking, so I thought I'd see if you need any help."

"I'm sure you put in a full day. More than that, since you were chasing down thugs at one a.m. I'm surprised you're not in bed already."

I probably should've avoided throwing out that visual because once I said it, I could imagine it perfectly.

Or at least, how I thought she'd look.

It instantly brought to mind how it felt to kiss her last night and how she'd responded to me…

And I'm not sure what it is about her that makes me so one-track minded when I'm around her.

I mean, I'm used to talking to beautiful women.

I'm not some inexperienced kid.

But when I see her, I want to see _more_ of her.

And when I talk to her, I want to _keep_ talking to her.

And it's more than just her attractiveness.

It's something else that I can't put my finger on.

So when I say I'm one-track minded, I don't mean in the sense that I want to get her into bed. I mean, I _do_, but I also just want to be around her.

My one-track mind is just on her, in general.

So to see her standing in my doorway, completely unexpected, looking tired and beautiful and slightly nervous as though she thought I might be upset by the interruption…it filled me with a sense of happiness and anticipation and...something undefined.

"Considering _bed_ is a twin-sized futon resembling something I slept on in the dorm at college…not to mention the fact that I'm rooming with Oscar and Felix…"

"Oh, I get it," I said with a grin. "I'm the lesser of two evils."

"I didn't say that," she countered in a voice I can only describe as sultry. It must be the accent that makes everything out of her mouth sound like a come-on. "It's just that as tired as I am, I'm still wound up. It was a long, crazy day, but I'm not ready to be done yet. But if I'm interrupting…"

"Not at all. You want to talk about it?"

"Well, two more in custody and one more dead…at the rate we're going, in two weeks we'll have the entire gang either in jail or in the morgue."

"That's good though, right?"

"It is, but it'd be nice to unravel this whole mess so that we have specific charges to file. But our witness keeps lying, and then apparently throwing up, so…"

"Throwing up?"

"Don't ask," she said on a laugh. "What about you? What's keeping you here so late?"

"Convenience store robbery homicide. The trial starts tomorrow, and I haven't exactly been giving it all of my attention lately."

"Well I don't want to be responsible for you giving anything less than your best. I can stay and help, if you want," she replied, still lingering in the doorway. "Unless you work better alone."

A harmless statement, and yet various suggestive replies popped into my head.

But I didn't say any of them out loud.

Instead, I waved her into the office and said, "Come on in. You can grade my performance."

And yeah, okay…that came out sounding a little dirty, but it wasn't my intent, so I quickly covered by setting my glove down on the desk and saying, "I've got some pretty good bourbon in my desk drawer. Can I fix you a drink?"

"I don't like bourbon," she answered.

"What?" I asked in mock-horror. "Who doesn't like bourbon?"

She laughed and shrugged before saying, "I don't. Or at least, I didn't like it the last time I tried it."

"You obviously didn't have the right kind," I assured her, adding a little bit of haughtiness to my tone just for effect.

She smiled again, and I had a hard time taking my eyes off of her, but I finally did so that I could walk around my desk and retrieve the liquor from the drawer.

"Okay, Mr. Big Shot," she teased. "I'll try your fancy bourbon. But if I don't like it, you're going to have to start keeping a bottle of something else in there, too."

I pulled out the glasses, one that was mine and the other that I'd always assumed would only be Connie's.

Silly, now that I think about it.

Or not, considering how often we have a drink after closing a big case.

And of course, I wash the glasses before putting them back in the drawer, but still…maybe I need to keep a whole set in here.

"So what's with the baseball glove?" she asked while I poured us each a healthy glass. She wandered around to the end of my desk, not coming behind it, but not letting the massive structure come between us, either. "Are you a fan?"

"Mets," I admitted. "You probably guessed Yankees, though, didn't you?"

"I don't follow baseball," she said unapologetically. "It's kind of boring."

I stopped mid-pour and stared at her and said, "You don't like bourbon. You don't like baseball. You're 0-for-2, Jennifer."

I topped off the glass and then held one out to her as she said, "Oh for…what?"

"Baseball reference," I said. She took the glass from me, and I held her gaze while I took a sip from mine.

"Am I blowing my chances before we have our first date?" she asked quietly as she took a step closer to me.

"No. We don't have to like all of the same things," I answered. "What's your stand on the death penalty?"

"I'm from Texas," she stated boldly, taking another step so that she was directly in front of me, and I could feel a pleasant buzzing take up residence in my entire body.

"Chocolate or vanilla?"

"Strawberry," she said, setting her glass down on the desk.

I took another drink from my glass, this time killing the remaining liquid.

"You're not going to try the bourbon?" I asked her, gesturing towards her still-full glass.

"Yes, I am."

She took the glass from my hand and put it on the desk next to hers and then she kissed me, one that was instantly intense…like the one from last night, only better.

I briefly had the concern that Jack was still wandering around the office, but I pushed it from my mind as she put her arms around me and brought her body up against mine.

We let it go on for several minutes. More than that, maybe. It was long enough that by the time she slowly pulled away, I'd completely forgotten where we were.

I've never done this in my office before…fantasized, maybe, but never made out.

It's something I might have to try again.

_Like in the next five minutes. _

Although locking the door and closing the blinds would probably be a good idea, but on the other hand, it's nearly seven o'clock and the door is all the way across the room…

"You're right," she said huskily as she ran her tongue over her lips. "I like the bourbon."

"I've got more," I offered.

"I bet you do," she replied, her gaze briefly shifting down to my mouth before coming back up to mine. But then she took a small step away from me and let out a sigh. "But believe it or not, I didn't come here to molest you. I honestly just wanted to see you, and…well, I wanted to see if I was crazy for wanting to keep our date tomorrow night."

"You've been thinking about canceling?"

"Not because of you. I just thought it would be the smart thing to do. You know, not to mix business with pleasure."

"So what's the verdict?"

"Well," she began, reaching out and grabbing onto the bottom of my tie, fiddling with it for a moment as she kept her gaze trained downwards. "I think our business is almost over, so maybe there's nothing wrong with taking some time for pleasure. What do you think?"

As she finished her thought, she slowly looked up at me and I felt momentarily tongue-tied by her shy expression which was in direct contradiction to her bold words.

Taking some time for pleasure…I could get behind that suggestion.

"I think…I like the way you think," I replied.

And we were still so close that I was burning to kiss her again, and the anticipation of doing it was almost as good as actually doing it, only not quite, so after a moment of lingering, I pressed my lips against hers again, this time softly, keeping it light and teasing.

And yet it was still scorching hot, and I was nowhere near ready to be done when she reluctantly broke off the kiss.

"Okay, so…" she began a little unsteadily as a smile crossed her face. She let go of my tie and then picked up the full glass of bourbon, and said, "Dazzle me with your opening statement."

She moved around to the other side of my desk and sat down in the chair, looking at me expectantly.

I'm supposed to remember my statement _now_?

I mean, I'm a professional, but I'm also a man.

And I'd been about two seconds away from sweeping everything off of my desk.

But maybe I've gotten to use to having _that_ kind of date.

So even though I want to see what she'd look like stretched out beneath me, and I want to know what she's got on under that greenish-blue blouse that somehow manages to make her eyes look exactly the same color, even though last night I would've sworn they were gray…despite all of that, I'm smart enough to recognize the fact that I need to take this slow.

Because in addition to wanting those other things, I also want to see if we can cultivate something beyond the bedroom.

"Mike?" she asked when I continued to stare at her.

"You really want to hear this?"

"You let me vent on you this morning. It's my turn to repay the favor."

"You don't owe me anything. I was glad that you called."

"And I'll be happy to help you finish up your work tonight. So lay it on me, and I'll tell you where you're going astray."

"Oh, I'm not going astray," I said with a cocky grin. "It's perfect."

"There's the arrogance I've been waiting for," she said. She took a sip of bourbon and then crossed her legs, and the action brought my attention to a small tear in her jeans.

"Occupational hazard?" I asked her, gesturing towards her knee.

"What?" she questioned, looking down to follow my gaze, and then she said, "Oh, yeah. I had to tackle a guy."

"So you mentioned. You didn't have time to change this morning? Or is your safe house wardrobe running thin?"

"I changed," she said. "And then I chased another guy. Lupo and Bernard approached three suspects out in Queens, and all three of them took off running. Mary and I arrived as back-up, so I went after one of them."

"So is yours one of the men in custody, or the one in the morgue?"

"In custody."

"Two foot chases in one day, huh?" I remarked. "And you were 2-for-2. Very impressive."

"Another baseball reference," she said with a grin.

I raised my eyebrow at her as I moved across the room to sit in the chair next to her.

"I'm a quick learner," she added. "I'm 0-for-2 in the personal likes and dislikes and 2-for-2 in my professional ability. Story of my life."

"Well, you're drinking the bourbon now," I pointed out.

"I think I've developed a taste for it. And maybe you can teach me about baseball when we go out tomorrow night."

"It's a complex game. It might take more than one date."

"I'm usually a _do whatever it takes kind_ of girl," she said, giving me a sweltering look. Then she killed the rest of her bourbon and said, "And tonight, that involves helping you with your statement, so let's hear it."

"Yeah, okay. So…opening statement. Um…Malcolm Jackson is a killer…"

TBC...


	59. Chapter 59

**John POV**

* * *

><p>"What's this?"<p>

"What? Oh, nothing."

"Not nothing. Who sent it to you?"

"I don't know."

"John…"

"Mary," I countered teasingly as I wrapped my arms around her from behind and started kissing the side of her neck.

"Don't try to distract me," she replied, although she didn't make much of an attempt to move away.

Not any attempt at all, actually.

Instead, she tilted her head slightly to one side, so I moved her hair out of the way and kissed my way up to her ear.

"I'm not trying to distract you," I stated as I stepped into her a little, pinning her in between my body and the workstation that held my laptop. "I'm just saying it's not a big deal. But me, getting you into bed…that'll be a big deal."

She turned in my arms and brought her eyes to mine as she said, "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me where that came from. And if you've gotten any others like it. And if so, how many and when and from whom."

"Is that all you want to know?" I asked in amusement, noting how her words were slightly slurred after her undocumented number of shots at McNally's.

"Maybe. I'm going to reserve the right to ask additional follow-up questions. So…talk."

"Maybe I don't want to talk," I replied as I brought my mouth down to hers.

She didn't resist at all.

In fact, she returned my kiss enthusiastically, and after only a moment, the threatening email was gone from my mind.

But apparently not hers.

"As much as I'd like to let you seduce me into forgetting about that email, it's not going to work," she murmured as she moved her lips along my jaw line.

We still had our arms around each other and she had her body plastered up against mine, and the last thing in the world that I wanted to do was talk about something so pedantic as a death threat.

Because last night, she'd been called out while we were still in the bath. And by the time she got home, I was on my way out. I keep odd hours when I'm brokering deals internationally because Eastern Standard Time is only standard to those who live in it.

Londoners tend to like to use their own time zone.

So I was leaving the suite at four-thirty, just as she was coming in, looking exhausted and yet wired at the same time.

We spent several minutes locked up in an intense and promising kiss, and then she proceeded to strip down to nothing right there in the foyer, while I had one hand on the doorknob.

Of course I wasn't about to leave.

I couldn't.

Wall Street itself could have been crumbling down and I would've stayed right there to watch her undress.

Once she was out of her clothes, she moved back into my arms and kissed me again, even more purposefully than before, and then she mumbled something about it being a damn shame that I had to leave for work.

Understatement of the year.

My mind raced through the agenda of the upcoming conference call in an effort to find a way that I could blow it off, but I couldn't.

"_I can be back by noon_," I offered as I ran my hands over her back. There was something oddly sexy about having her naked up against me while I was still fully clothed. "_Maybe we can do lunch?"_

"_I'd love to say yes, but I don't see it happening. I'm only here for a few hours of sleep and then I have to get back. Tonight_?"

"_I can't imagine a scenario that'll keep me away_," I answered.

Of course, at the time, I hadn't considered that I would leave my laptop open, and she would use it to quickly check email, and then she'd see the death threat that I'd received earlier today.

"How about we make a deal?" I suggested as I brought my hands in between us so that I could start undoing the buttons on her blouse.

"You want to negotiate with me? I'm not sure that would be fair."

"For you?"

"For you," she said smugly.

I love her confidence.

"I'm willing to risk it," I replied, finishing off the last button and then pushing her blouse from her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.

I traced one finger along the outline of her bra and then slid it down her stomach and started working on the button of her jeans.

I love how she lets me do this to her.

She's normally such a forceful presence and she loves to be in control, but with me, at times like this, she stands still and lets me take over.

Well, sometimes.

Sometimes she's aggressive and demanding and impatient…I love her like that, too.

"You want me to table the email while we finish what got interrupted last night," she stated as I slowly worked her jeans down off of her hips, and she was trying to sound like she was unaffected by what I was doing to her, but I know her better than that.

"Beautiful _and_ smart. How did I get so lucky?"

"Are you trying to suck up so that I'll agree to the terms?"

"No," I answered, shifting my focus to the two silky garments that were the only things standing between me and what I really wanted. As sexy as she looks _in_ them, I couldn't think about anything but getting her _out_ of them, so I quickly remedied the problem and then pulled her into my arms again. "I'm trying to seduce you. Is it working?"

"Well, so far, I'm the only one naked, and if you're going to barter with your goods, I think I need to see them first," she said, taking a step back from me and then giving me an encouraging nod.

"You've seen my goods," I replied with a grin as I grabbed onto my tie and gave it a tug, loosening the knot until I could pull it over my head.

"Yeah, but that was almost twenty-four hours ago, so hurry up, rich boy."

I did.

I tossed my six thousand dollar suit onto the floor and then grabbed onto Mary and had her right there up against the desk.

It went much quicker than I planned, but I couldn't help myself. I'd spent most of my day thinking about her, after she'd tortured me with that striptease right before I headed off to work.

But still, it was passionate and intense and extremely satisfying, and I'm pretty sure that if I give it a little time, I'll be ready to go again.

"So tell me about it," she said to me once we were in the bed beneath the covers.

"It's just one of those things," I said dismissively. "People tend to get upset when they lose money, and they look for someone to blame."

"And they blame you?"

"If a company I sell doesn't do well under its new ownership and the investors lose money, or when an acquisition calls for the work force to be trimmed down or relocated…that kind of thing."

"So which is this?"

"I'm not sure."

All the email said was_**: Six feet won't be deep enough.**_

Subtle and yet effective, I suppose, if I weren't so immune to that kind of thing.

"Did you check into the return address?"

"It's a Hotmail account that's already been deactivated."

"But…"

"Mary, I get these things on a regular basis. I promise you – it's no big deal."

She sighed heavily and was quiet for a minute and then she said, "If you get another one…"

"If I get another one, I'll tell you."

"Okay, because now that you're with me, it's not beyond the realm that some sicko looking for payback on me might try to come after you."

"I know," I agreed quickly, although I really hadn't thought about it like that. I guess that kind of thing does happen from time to time.

"And this case with the Albanians…"

"From what you've told me, a threatening email is way too subtle for them."

"True."

"So how's that going? Do you want to talk about it?"

"I partnered myself with Jennifer."

"Really?"

"You're surprised?"

"I guess I assumed you weren't going to have a partner since you're the boss. Or if you decided to have one, you'd go with McInnis."

"I thought about it. But Jennifer…she's really good. And you know, she reminds me a lot of Alex or Carolyn. Tough and fearless…a real balls-to-the-wall kind of girl."

"Like you," I said with a smile.

"A little like me, yeah. You know, she's got a thing going with Mike Cutter."

"Is that good or bad?"

"I'm not sure. Good, I hope. I feel bad for him, the way Anna treated him, and then I feel bad for thinking about her like that considering what happened to her."

She was quiet again and then she said, "I think my witness is playing me."

I was surprised to hear her say that because even though she tells me bits and pieces about what's going on, she doesn't ever really talk about a specific witness. I know that she has rules, and I'm okay with it, but I also love that she wanted to open up about this.

"How so?" I asked carefully.

"Alex and Bobby say she never planned on testifying."

"You think they're right?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"So what does that mean? Are you going to kick her out of the program?"

"She's pregnant. And if I kick her out now, they'll kill her."

"Oh."

"Or maybe not," she said thoughtfully. "You know, there are two guys after her and each of them think he's the father of her baby, but where's the third guy?"

"What third guy?"

"Alex found evidence that she was meeting up with a third man around the time of conception, and today the witness spouted off something about not loving the first two, but when Alex asked her about the third, she starting throwing up."

"Sounds like a fun interview."

"You have no idea. Alex was pretty ticked and kept quizzing her even while she was yakking into a trashcan."

"That might've been smart. It's probably tougher to lie when you're focused on hurling."

"Uh huh," she mused. "But so I'm wondering where this third guy is, and what he knows."

"Maybe he doesn't even know she's pregnant."

"It's possible."

"So these other two guys. Are they working together to find her?"

"No, they hate each other. They're in competition with each other."

"For what?"

"Control."

"So what if the third guy is a dark horse candidate?" I suggested.

"Someone else who wants to take over," she said as she sat up in the bed. "Interesting. You know, McInnis and Daniels couldn't get their hands on the footage today because the hotel insisted on a warrant, but it's only been a few months, so we might be able to take photos over there and question the employees and…"

"Tomorrow," I reminded her as I pulled her back down with me. "You're supposed to get eight hours of sleep tonight, right?"

"Yeah," she agreed as she settled against me again. "You're right. No more case talk tonight."

I could feel her relax incrementally and I was glad because I'd been afraid that once she got worked up, thinking about the case, she might not be able to rest and I know she needs it.

I'd thought that the alcohol would put her to sleep quickly but the woman can drink like a sailor.

"I've been rethinking this whole March thing. You know, it'll probably be windy and it's hard to plan when we don't know if it'll be in like a lion, out like a lamb, or the other way around," she said as her fingers slowly traced a pattern over my chest.

Have I mentioned how much I love moments like this with her?

Quiet, intimate conversations in the dark.

It's not something I've ever had before.

It's almost as if we're the only two people in the world.

"Okay," I agreed easily.

I hadn't actually expected her to stick with her March suggestion anyway.

Honestly, I'll be surprised if we ever actually walk down the aisle, but that's okay, too. As long as she's with me, nothing else matters.

I mean, I _want_ to be married to her.

But I'm also happy just like we are.

"So February," she finished. "What do you think?"

"Really?" I asked, unable to hide my surprise.

"Oh, yeah. Valentine's Day. That'd be pretty cheesy, wouldn't it? You're right, we can't do that."

"I didn't say that. And there are twenty-seven other days in February. It doesn't have to be on Valentine's Day."

"Yeah, but the whole month…it's just hearts and pink flowers and…no."

She eased even closer to me, sliding her leg between mine as she pressed a kiss against my chest.

"I know how you hate pink," I agreed easily, closing my eyes as she continued to kiss me.

She hummed her agreement and then shifted against me, bringing her body flush up against mine as her hand began moving slowly in a downward track.

"And lavender," she added. "I hate that, too. And light blue. Really, all pastels."

"Primary colors it is. Do you have one in mind?"

"I'm thinking red."

"I like red," I agreed.

Although really, with what she was doing to me, she could've said she wanted to say our vows while skydiving over a volcano, and I would've said yes.

"And I want to do it in January."

I opened my eyes and found her looking at me expectantly, like maybe she thought I'd tease her for continually moving the date up, or…something, I don't know.

But teasing her isn't what came to mind.

I rolled us over and pushed into her all in one motion, and then stayed still for a moment as I brushed her hair from her eyes.

"We're really going to do this," I said.

"Yeah. You thought I'd change my mind?"

"No, but I thought you might procrastinate indefinitely."

"And you'd be okay with that?"

"I just want you. You won't be taking my name and you don't want my money and we're practically living together anyway, so I'm not sure what being married is going to change about…well, anything, so…yeah, I'd be okay with it."

"But?"

"But I still really want to marry you."

She smiled and ran her hands down my back, gripping onto my butt in an effort to get me to start moving, which I did, and then she said, "You must be out of your mind."

"It's possible," I agreed.

"You know, I was thinking…"

"God help us."

"Ha ha," she retorted, smiling even more. "But seriously, red in January…that might not be such a great idea."

"Okay, so what color goes with January?" I asked in amusement.

"Nothing. So let's go with red. In December."

TBC...


	60. Chapter 60

**A/N: I have been ridiculously remiss with review replies - my most sincere apologies. Thank you to everyone who's been reviewing - please keep them coming, and I'll do better about responding! **

* * *

><p><strong>Hayes POV<strong>

* * *

><p>I couldn't find what I was looking for.<p>

In fact, I couldn't even _remember_ what I was looking for.

But I knew I was here for a reason.

It was dark and cold, and I was alone.

"_B?"_ I called out tentatively.

Silence was all I heard in response.

The snow crunched beneath my feet as I walked further into the darkness.

_Snow?_

That doesn't make any sense. It's May.

And then I smelled it.

Wild Turkey.

_But I'm not in the alley. I'm in the woods_, I thought in confusion.

Like back home, in Minnesota.

But that smell was unmistakable.

And overpowering.

And it instilled me with a sense of terror.

I whirled around and found Flowers standing behind me, his gun pointed at my head.

My heart started pounding in my chest as he smiled at me.

"_You knew I'd get out. That's why you came to see me, right? You wanted to make sure that I remembered you…that I knew who you were."_

_"Oh, I want you to know who I am alright," _I agreed as I forced myself to not be afraid. _"So that you know exactly who it is who kills you."_

"_You talk a good game, but we both know what you're going to do,"_ he boasted as he clicked the hammer back on his revolver.

I lunged at him as he finished the statement and we both went down to the ground, rolling over and over as we each fought for control.

"_Just be a good girl and take it_," he growled. "_Like you did last time."_

"_Fuck you,_" I cried out as desperation flooded through me.

Because I was losing the battle.

I don't know where the gun had landed, but Flowers was stronger than me and we came to a stop with him laying on top of me, my arms pinned over my head.

I started screaming and bucking against him, giving it one last ditch effort.

Or maybe it wasn't last ditch.

Maybe this time I'd die trying to fight him off because I couldn't let there be a repeat of what happened before.

I wouldn't survive it if he did it again.

"_Lauren, come on, honey."_

Honey?

"_Lauren!"_

I sucked in a breath as I opened my eyes and found myself staring into B's dark brown eyes.

"It's okay. I'm right here," he said soothingly.

He was sitting up in the bed, trying not to seem imposing despite his size, and trying not to scare me, even though he'd obviously had to yell to get me out of the throes of my nightmare.

I felt at once sick and relieved and horrified that I'd brought that man into our bed.

"I'm sorry," I said immediately.

My standard disclaimer.

I drew in several more ragged breaths while Bernard sat there quietly, watching me with concern.

"Better?"

"Yeah, I'm..."

"Don't say you're sorry."

"B, it's three a.m. You were up all night last night, and now you were just awakened by the screams of your psychotic girlfriend."

At his raised eyebrow I asked, "I was screaming, wasn't I?"

"Well, yes…but you're not psychotic."

"Are you sure about that?" I asked, annoyed with myself.

I mean, wasn't that the whole point of going to see Flowers? So that I could put this thing behind me?

"Let's get up and breathe for a minute," he suggested.

Without waiting for my response, he got up from the bed and then held out his hand to me. I looked at it for a moment and then put my hand in his and let him pull me up, where I went straight into his arms.

"I don't deserve you," I said. "You don't need this kind of..."

"Uh uh," he interrupted. "We're not backtracking. I need _you_, and if it means we get up in the middle of the night to have ice cream, then that's fine with me."

"Ice cream?" I asked.

"Sounds good, doesn't it?" he said with a grin. "Come on."

So we went into the kitchen and he pulled out a chair for me to sit down at the table and then he opened up the stainless steel freezer door, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out a carton of rocky road ice cream.

"That's my favorite," I commented as he got a spoon from the drawer.

"I know," he replied.

He sat down next to me and popped open the ice cream container and then dug out a healthy spoonful and offered it to me.

I've never had anyone feed me before, and I never would've imagined that it would be a sensual experience, but it kind of was.

And after a few minutes of breathing and savoring the chocolaty concoction, I was starting to feel a lot better.

Although I was still ticked with myself for having the dream in the first place.

And what was up with letting him into a childhood memory?

"This one was different," Bernard remarked as he pulled out another bite of ice cream. He offered it to me, but I shook my head and instead watched as he put it into his mouth.

And then I leaned over and kissed him, enjoying the sensation of his cold lips against mine.

And enjoying it even more as things got hotter as the kiss progressed.

"You don't have to use avoidance techniques," he said when I slowly pulled away. "If you don't want to talk about it, we don't have to."

"I'm okay with talking. Kissing just seemed like a better idea, don't you think?"

He smiled and tossed the spoon into the carton and then reached for me, pulling me onto his lap.

"I'm game for anything. If you want to talk, we'll talk. If you want to kiss, well...I'll just have to suffer through it."

"Suffer, huh?" I said as he reached up and pushed my hair back from my face.

It was sweaty.

_I_ was sweaty.

I hadn't even realized it.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, acknowledging the fact that even though he was willing to let it go, I needed to talk.

"It _was_ different," I said, agreeing with his assessment. "I wasn't in New York. I was in the woods in St Paul. It was dark and I was looking for something, and there was snow on the ground..."

And as I said the words, I realized what I'd been doing in the dream.

"I was looking for a Christmas tree," I stated.

As dysfunctional as my childhood became after my parents' divorce and my brother's death, I still have fond memories of our annual tradition. Bundling up and walking out into the woods to find the perfect Fraser fir…

"A Christmas tree in the woods?"

"That's where trees grow," I replied with a smile.

"Or...you buy them in a store."

"Don't tell me you're the little-plastic-tree type."

"I'm the sometimes-do-without-a-tree-at-all type."

"Oh, my God," I said dramatically. "We have to do something about that."

"What kind of tree do you put up? I mean, you're in New York. It's not like you can go into Central Park and chop down an evergreen."

"Fir. And no," I said wistfully. "But I buy a cut tree every year. Don't you love the smell of them?"

"I...don't know. Yes?"

"Huh," I said thoughtfully. "Okay, but anyway, I was in the woods looking for a tree. I called to you."

"I heard you. That's what woke me up."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. I'm sorry," I said automatically, but then at his admonishing look, I said, "Okay, I'm not sorry. Because I guess you woke me up before it got too bad."

"So he was there."

"I smelled him before I saw him. I always do."

"Wild Turkey."

"Yeah. I turned around and he was right there and he had a gun. I went for it and we went down to the ground, fighting for it, and then I let him get the upper hand. He was on top of me and…I couldn't get free and…then you woke me up."

"You were fighting me like crazy," he said quietly.

"I couldn't give up again."

"Again? Lauren…"

"I know, I just…I don't know," I sighed, resting my head against his chest. "Why do you think the venue changed?"

"When this goes to trial, you might not be able to keep it from your parents," he said after a moment. "It's possible that Schmenke will call them to get more information about you."

"I didn't think about that."

And I probably should've thought about that, but honestly, I've had other things on my mind.

Last night, Bernard and I were supposed to have a date, but I got tied up with Liz's case, and he had his hands full, too. His Mountie friend had to postpone and wouldn't arrive with Leon Aman until tomorrow, but he still had to write a report about the suspect who killed himself, and then he was pulled into an interview with IAB, followed by another meeting with Ross.

Needless to say, our date got postponed.

I got home around eight o'clock, and found Bernard, still dressed in his suit and tie, in the kitchen, making grilled cheese sandwiches.

"_I could kiss you right now_," I told him as I pulled off my boots. "_My stomach's been growling since four."_

_"What's stopping you?_" he asked invitingly. He clicked off the stove and moved the skillet aside and then turned and waited for me as I walked over to him.

And of course, there was nothing stopping me, so I kissed him, taking my time with it until my stomach growled again and he started chuckling.

"_Let's eat, and then we can do more of that_," he suggested.

So we ate our sandwiches in the living room, with the game on the TV, although with no sound, and we traded talk about our respective days.

"_You took Jeremy with you?"_

_"We were looking for a computer hacker, not a serial killer."_

_"I know, but…no wonder the chief was in a pissy mood when he talked to me."_

_"Yeah, he was in one when I talked to him on the phone, too. But I don't think it was about Jeremy. I mean, nothing happened. We drove up to the bar and asked around inside. The bartender said there are a couple of people who come in regularly to use the free Wi-Fi, but he didn't have names. So then we parked outside and watched the place for hours, hoping we'd see someone go in with a laptop."_

_"No one did?"_

_"No, although maybe it was pointless. I mean, if she's already hacked what she needs to know about Liz…"_

_"She. You know for sure that it's a woman?"_

_"I'm basing it on the phone calls," _I admitted. "_So no, I'm not sure. Two calls were from a female and one from a male. Either could be the hacker."_

_"And neither are the kid."_

_"No. The daughter is Cecilia Chambers, and she lives in Boston. We haven't made contact with her yet because Liz was going to talk with the real mother to find out whether or not we can give up her name."_

_"And?"_

_"I called her, and she asked if she could call me back in the morning. And now that I think about it, she was kind of off, too. Maybe she and Ross are fighting."_

_"They've had a lot going on," _he said easily. "_So do you have any leads?"_

_"Not really, but I did have an idea. I've got Mulder working on something for us."_

_"Mulder. You know he calls you a ten, right?"_

_"That's Connie,"_ I said on a laugh.

_"And you. Connie kissed me on the cheek this morning, and he told me that I should stick with my own ten and quit hitting on Lupo's."_

_"Your ten, huh? I'm not sure how I feel about that_," I teased.

"_About the suggestion that you're mine?"_

"_About being called a ten. Although I guess since it's Mulder…"_

He turned towards me, putting his hand on my cheek as he looked at me with unexpected intensity, and he said, "_I like thinking about you as mine."_

God, the man sure knows how to make my stomach turn somersaults.

And I've always been the type opposed to possessive designations, but that must only be because I've never been with the right man.

Until now, I mean.

"_Don't just think it. Know it,"_ I managed to say, even though I was losing focus since he'd shifted even closer to me until his mouth was scant inches from mine.

He looked like maybe he was going to say something more, but he didn't. Instead, he closed the last bit of distance between us and kissed me, rekindling that heat we'd generated earlier in the kitchen.

So that's how we ended up in bed at only nine o'clock at night.

Although it was after ten before we went to sleep. I have to give B points for his stamina considering he was up all night Wednesday night, but when I said the words out loud, he deflected the credit.

"_It wouldn't matter if I'd gone an entire week without sleep. You're just…you're you."_

As if that explained it all.

But accompanied by the expression on his face and the feel of his arms around me, I knew what he meant.

He loves me.

And I don't have to worry that it's only about the physical, because hours later, he was still looking at me like that, as I sat on his lap in the middle of the night, talking about my nightmare.

"Does that make you want to change your mind?" he asked me.

Good question.

How was I going to deal with my parents finding out the truth?

The same way I've dealt with them about everything else, I guess.

"No," I answered. "I'm going through with it. I guess I just need to tell them before they get a call from Schmenke."

"He might not call them. I mean, you were here, and they were there…"

"He will. Just because he can."

"We could go out there, if you want," he suggested. "So that you can tell them in person."

"We? You want to fly to Minnesota with me?" I asked him as I pulled back so that I could once again look him in the eye. "To talk to my parents?"

"I wouldn't have to actually go talk to them. I'm just saying…if you need the moral support…"

"I don't know. Let me think about it."

"Okay," he said, and then I realized that he looked slightly disappointed.

"I mean, let me think about whether or not I want to _go_, not whether or not I'd want you with me," I clarified. "I _always_ want you with me."

"Okay," he said again. "I just didn't want you to think that I'm trying to rush things…you know, trying to force the issue of meeting your parents or something."

"I didn't think that. I think you're being sweet," I replied. And then I echoed his earlier sentiment by saying, "You're being you."

He smiled at me, but then couldn't stop a yawn, so I got up from his lap and said, "Come on. Let's get you back into the bed."

"Are you sure you're ready?"

"I'll be fine."

"Well, if you find yourself in the woods again…you know I'm right there with you, holding your hand," he said, taking my hand as we walked back to the bedroom.

"You? In the woods?" I teased lightly.

"Sure. Where else are we going to find our Christmas tree?"

TBC...


	61. Chapter 61

**Liz POV**

* * *

><p>I don't understand people.<p>

Maybe that's why I spent so many years avoiding them as much as possible.

Maybe that's why I like working with the dead.

Because dead people don't disappoint.

They don't judge.

And they don't get jealous.

"_I'm going out on the balcony_," I'd said to Jeremy after I got home from the morgue.

I'd purposely stayed late in an effort to avoid dealing with Danny.

I had too much in my head at the moment to be able to effectively address our current issue, which, for the record, seems to change almost daily.

"_Dad's in the den_," he told me hesitantly.

"_I need to be alone for a little while_," I said. And then before he could comment, I added, "_And yes, we're fine. It's just been a really long day, and I've got a lot on my mind."_

"_Okay,"_ he replied in understanding. _"I'm sorry we didn't make more headway on your case."_

"_You did good," _I told him, forcing myself to smile. _"Lauren said you're a natural. Cases are rarely solved in a day or two. It'll happen."_

He nodded and I tossed my purse on the table before heading into the kitchen.

"_You're out of Jack,"_ he called after me. "_I used the rest of it for your drinks last night."_

I paused for a moment and then went to the liquor cabinet anyway, pulling out a bottle of 1800.

Because damn it, this day called for a stiff drink.

I didn't bother with a glass, but instead took the bottle with me out onto the balcony and took a hefty swig while mentally cursing the flaws of people.

And I don't mean Danny.

Or at least, he's not who I'm thinking about at the moment.

I'm thinking about Vanessa Montgomery.

My roommate from Boston College, and Cecilia Chambers' mother.

Vanessa wasn't hard to find.

She came from money. Serious money, and a family full of politicians.

Thus her desperation for keeping her pregnancy a secret.

But she's a regular inhabitant on the society page and she was most definitely in the phone book.

"_Can you imagine the scandal_?" she said to me, all those years ago. "_My daddy will be laughed out of office it word gets out that his unwed teenage daughter got knocked up."_

"_Then why go through with it_?" I asked her. "_Why not have an abortion?"_

_"Elizabeth, I'm six months pregnant,"_ she replied as she looked down at herself. I'd barely been able to see any sign of it, even after she told me, but I guess maybe that's how she'd managed to go so long without anyone knowing. "_I didn't even know until a few weeks ago. I just thought…I don't know what I thought. That if I ignored it, it would go away, I guess."_

I thought she was being ridiculous, but I wasn't really one to talk.

My boyfriend _and_ my lover had just gone to prison for drugs, and at the time, I thought I was using said drug money to pay for my college education.

And I'd changed my name in an effort to keep most people from finding me.

Obviously it wouldn't deter law enforcement, but I thought it would prevent me from having any dealers or other thugs from the neighborhood looking me up.

Of course, I still had my old driver's license.

"_You can use my ID_," I told her. "_When you check into the hospital. I mean, you're giving it up for adoption, right?"_

_"Are you kidding me? Of course I am. So you mean I can say that I'm you?"_

"_You can say you're the old me_," I corrected. "_That way it won't come back to you. No one will ever have to know."_

Famous last words of a teenager.

Because now someone knows.

Well, about me, not about her.

And apparently that's how she wants to keep it.

"_Do you know who my husband is?_" she asked me in a harsh whisper as we sat in the upscale restaurant in mid-town.

We'd quickly moved on from _how've you been all these years_ to _your child is looking for her birth mother_.

"_What does he have to do with anything?"_

"_Because he's my husband. And he's in the running for a spot on the Court of Appeals."_

_"His promotion would be effected by the idea that you had a child before you met him?"_

"_What do you think? We have the perfect life, Elizabeth. A home on Long Island, two beautiful daughters…"_

_"Three daughters, actually_," I corrected.

"_Stop saying that_!" she insisted. "_Look, he doesn't know, okay? I never told him, and he'd never forgive me for it. So…you know what? This conversation didn't happen. And as for what you think happened thirty years ago…you're wrong about that, too. Elizabeth Chambers had a daughter and she gave her up for adoption. If someone wants to ask me about it, then I'll say I knew her, and I was there the day she gave her baby up, and after that, I never saw her again."_

_"But Vanessa…"_

_"Don't fuck with me, Elizabeth,"_ she ground out in a biting tone, changing from socialite to grade-A bitch in a split second. "_Don't forget I know all about your deep, dark secrets, too. I wonder what your husband would think about the kind of person you use to be."_

_"He knows,"_ I fired back, disgusted by her eagerness to deny everything. "_Married couples shouldn't have secrets. Maybe you should think about that before you throw out a blanket denial."_

She laughed humorlessly and grabbed her purse from the table, clearly ready to end our conversation.

_"I remember you as being so much smarter,"_ she said condescendingly. "_Men might think they want to know our secrets, but all they really want to hear is that we_ _never really loved anyone else, we never slept with anyone else, and we can't possibly imagine a life without them around to take care of us."_

She got up from the table and then pinned me with an icy stare and said, "_It was lovely getting to see you, but don't call me again. I've got my own version of events at Boston College and I don't need you or some long-lost, misguided, bastard child coming along to fuck that up."_

So now I couldn't decide what to do.

Even more so now that I'd learned the backstory on Cecilia, _and_ since Lauren had said they're pretty sure that the girl isn't behind the blackmail.

"_Did you find out why she was never adopted_?" I asked her when she called to give me an update.

_"Yeah, I've got the Child Services file. She went to live with a couple when she was ten days old, and when she was three, they applied for a legal adoption. But before it went through, the husband was killed in a work-place accident, and the courts wouldn't allow for the widow to complete the adoption. Cecilia continued to live with her, as her foster child, until she was nine."_

_"What happened when she was nine?"_

"_Another family was found for her, one with both parents."_

_"So they pulled her away from the only mother she'd ever known? That's crazy."_

_"Yes, it is. Even crazier when after eight months it didn't work out, and they sent Cecilia to live in a group home instead of going back with her foster mother who by that point was deemed unfit because she'd been diagnosed with MS."_

_"Please tell me she didn't spend the next nine years in the group home,"_ I said, closing my eyes against the frustration and injustices sometimes doled out by the system.

_"Um…no. She ran away when she was sixteen and spent a year in locations unknown and then she was picked up by the Boston PD for trespassing, and she spent her last year of childhood in juvie."_

_"And you're sure she's not behind the blackmail? Because I'd probably want some kind of payback on me, too."_

_"We're not sure, no. But we don't think so. Actually, we're having Mulder run through the files of the group home to see who was living there at the same time as Cecilia, as well as the records of the juvenile facility."_

_"So…trespassing. Where?"_

_"Her foster mother's home. It looks like she tried to go see her."_

_"And?"_

_"She found out she'd passed away the year before. She got upset and didn't want to leave the front porch. The new owners were jerks about it and called the cops."_

I'd hung up the phone with Lauren and then spent the next twenty minutes in my office.

Crying.

How much bad luck did one girl have to face?

And I was going to have to tell her that I'm _not_ her mother.

That her mother is a selfish bitch who's afraid of ruining her so-called perfect life.

I was tempted to claim her anyway.

Who'd have to know?

I mean, Danny, of course.

But who else?

I could be a support system for her.

I'd called Alex earlier to talk with her about it, to tell her what Vanessa had said, and what I was thinking.

She'd been sympathetic, of course.

But she also reminded me of what I already know.

That telling Cecilia that I'm her mother would be a lie.

And I wouldn't know the answers to the questions she'd undoubtedly ask, the biggest of which being who is her father.

I'd asked Vanessa on multiple occasions, but she'd never come clean with me, and that box on the birth certificate had been left blank.

I took another long drink of tequila and then I finally let my mind wander to Danny.

And today, in my office.

"_I'm not supposed to be jealous when I walk into your office and find a man zipping up his pants?" _he'd shouted at me.

And my initial reaction to his jealousy had been outrage.

Because it wasn't just a man.

It was Logan, a man who's not only a friend himself, but also the _husband_ of one of my best friends.

And what must Danny think of me to make him concerned that there was something inappropriate going on?

It's just wrong on so many levels.

And the really frustrating thing is that Mike even joked about it when I closed the blinds.

"_I just hope the boss doesn't decide to hit his wife up for a nooner because if he walks in and sees my ass, that'll be a definite mood killer."_

"_You're not worried about my mood, just his, huh_?" I teased back.

"_Hey, you can give me pills and we'll call it good,"_ he said somewhat nervously, and it hit me that it probably _was_ slightly awkward for him.

"_It'll take five seconds_," I assured him. "_A quick in and out."_

He'd barked out a laugh and said, "_You don't know me very well, do you, Doc?"_

"_Drop the pants and grab your ankles, Detective," _I retorted. "_And trust me…this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you."_

And as it turns out, it did, since Danny apparently thinks I was checking out the quality of Mike's derriere while I was sticking in the needle.

Why would he think that? Especially after what we've been through these past couple of days. I really thought we were over the hump and closer than ever and now he's suddenly acting as if I'm going to grope our friend while offering up professional services.

It's just insulting and…hurtful.

I turned up the bottle again and then put the cap back in place, deciding that going to work with a tequila hangover wouldn't be a very good idea.

I heard the back door open, but I didn't turn around. In fact, I felt my shoulders stiffen involuntarily, preparing for battle.

"I've been trying to think of exactly what to say to you," Danny said quietly as he moved to stand next to me against the railing.

I continued looking straight ahead, waiting to hear what he'd come up with.

He stayed silent.

"Something would probably be better than nothing," I said after another minute.

"See, that's just it. Nothing I say is going to excuse what I did."

I took the cap back off the bottle and took another drink.

_It won't be my first hangover at work…_

"Liz, I'm dying here," he continued. "I know that I screwed up, and I wish I could start this day again so that I could try to keep from sticking my foot in my mouth, but I can't."

"It doesn't matter what you said," I said carefully. "It's that you were thinking it at all."

"It was a knee-jerk reaction that has absolutely nothing to do with what I learned about your past. I can't help it if I don't like the idea of you looking at another man's butt. But I trust you. Explicitly. Liz…"

He paused and I finally turned around to look at him and damn if I didn't feel just a little bit sorry for him.

He was being so sincere.

He reached up and put his hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently for a minute.

"I was wrong to overreact. And I can blame it on the lack of sleep, or on my lousy day, or whatever, but what it boils down to is that I…still don't exactly get what you see in me, and it drives me crazy to think that you might see someone else and wish that you had someone…I don't know. Better than me."

I let out a long sigh and shook my head.

"So you think…what, exactly? That I've never seen another naked man, and that if I see one now I'm suddenly going to start making comparisons?"

"No, I…."

"I've seen Mike naked," I interrupted, deciding that as I told Vanessa, married couples shouldn't have any secrets. "Bobby, too."

"You've…what?" he asked in surprise.

"Not in person, but in pictures," I explained, deciding that it wouldn't be very nice of me to give him a heart attack. "Last fall when Judge Garrett was trying to frame me for Marcus' murder."

"You saw those pictures," he repeated.

"Yes."

"I almost wish you hadn't told me."

"Why? It's been almost a year. And yet I still love _you_. I still _want_ you. So what does that tell you?"

He didn't respond, but instead stared blankly at the floor as though he was trying to absorb what I was telling him.

"Danny, you have no reason to be insecure. I could give Mike a shot in his ass every day for a month and it's not going to make me lust after him, or wish that you look like him, or…anything."

"I'm sorry," he said, bringing his eyes to mine. "I'm supposed to be supporting you and instead you're the one staying rational and objective."

"It's the tequila," I said with a smirk as I held the bottle out to him. "Have some."

I didn't actually expect him to drink it, but he did. And then he set the bottle down and hesitantly held his arms out, offering me a hug.

I didn't keep him waiting. I'm tired of being mad at him, and I suppose I can almost understand what he was feeling.

What if the situation were reversed?

Would I really be comfortable with the idea that he'd seen Carolyn's butt?

Or Alex's? Lauren's?

Not that he'd have any legitimate reason for doing so, but still…there's a certain degree of proprietorship that comes with being in a relationship and if it weren't for my guilt about my past indiscretions, I probably wouldn't have gotten so angry at him for being jealous.

In fact, I probably would've just teased him about it.

So I'd chalk this one up to both of us.

And to the fact that I know Danny feels a little bit like he pales in comparison to the likes of Mike and Bobby.

So I went into his arms and relaxed against him, my exhaustion catching up to me now that he and I were right again.

"I _am_ sorry," he said again. "For what I said, and for starting a fight, and leaving you to deal with your afternoon all alone. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I've been toying with the idea of telling Cecilia I'm her mother."

"Oh," he said easily, holding me even tighter than before. "I take it her real mother isn't interested in the job."

"No. And I know I can't lie…I have to tell her, it's just…it's going to be hard."

"She doesn't have anyone?"

"It doesn't look like it. Not from what Lauren found, anyway."

"When are you going to talk to her?"

"I'm going to call her tomorrow and set something up."

"I can come with you," he offered. "If you want."

I let out a deep breath and said, "That would be really nice."

TBC...


	62. Chapter 62

**Lupo POV**

* * *

><p>As I approached the conference room, I could hear laughter.<p>

And considering our week thus far, that was a very good sign.

_Maybe everyone got sleep last night_, I mused.

"Sure, the hippo racing is every Tuesday night in Calgary. Come naked!" a man was saying, and everyone started laughing again.

It didn't take but a second for me to determine that the newcomer in the room was Bernard's Mountie friend**.**

"Have you started in on the two-four already?" I asked.

"Not just yet," Bernard said as he waved me over. "Lucas, this is my partner Cyrus Lupo. Lupes, Lucas Tremblay. He's going to hang around for a little while today before making the drive back to Toronto, so maybe we'll get started on those beers later on."

"You hand-delivered Leon Aman," I stated as I shook his hand. "We appreciate it."

"No trouble at all, eh? I've been meaning to get down here for a while now anyway, so this gave me a good excuse."

"And speaking of excuses," Mary spoke up. "I think maybe I should've bought you an alarm clock as a wedding gift."

I glanced at my watch and said, "It's…eight-oh-two. You guys haven't even started yet."

"Because we were waiting for you," she replied as she got up from her chair.

"Take it easy on him, Mary. He can't help it if Connie won't let him out of the bed."

"Yes, thank you, Bernard," I said sarcastically. "And I don't see Bobby and Alex here yet, so it's not just me you're waiting on."

"True, but I'm not going to wait for them. Alex mentioned something about handcuffing him to the bed, so…"

"Okay, I think that's probably more than I need to know," McInnis interjected as he shook his head. "What is it with you guys, talking about your sex lives?"

"You're just jealous because you don't have one," Jennifer told him.

"Oh, and you do?" he retorted challengingly.

She opened her mouth to respond, but then apparently thought better of it and said nothing, which then caused McInnis to furrow his brow and look at her curiously.

"You do?" he asked.

"Since when?" Daniels questioned.

"I didn't say…"

"Kids," Mary interrupted loudly. "Let's not give our guest Mountie the impression that we're unprofessional."

"Well…" I said with a shrug.

"Okay, any _more_ unprofessional than what we've already shown him," she corrected.

"Sorry we're late," Alex said as she walked into the room just ahead of Bobby.

He looked considerably better this morning, and he had a smile on his face so now I'll admit to being a little curious about the handcuff remark.

I find it fascinating how people are wired differently, as to what they find sexually stimulating.

Personally, I'm a big fan of handcuffs, both as the cuff_ee_ and the cuff_er_.

Lucky for me, Connie's of the same mind.

Although lately we've been on such a tight timetable, we haven't taken the time for the addition of props.

Like this morning…

The alarm went off at six-thirty, and that should've been plenty of time for us to get ready. Especially since Mulder was on our couch again, and so he's the one who took Otto for his morning walk.

And while he did that, I took a shower.

With my very delectable wife.

"_We have to hurry_," she said as I pulled the curtain closed behind me. She was already standing under the hot spray and let me tell you…she was a sight to behold.

"_I'm so tired of having to hurry_," I told her as I moved close to her, standing behind her under the water. I couldn't resist running my hands over her wet skin and then I groaned a little as she pushed back against me. "_Maybe I want to stay in here all day."_

"_That'd be tough to explain to Ross_," she replied practically. She put down the soap and then reached back, grabbing onto my hips with both hands.

I continued running my hands over the front of her for a moment and then I took hold of her hands and put them on the tile in front of us.

"_We're on our honeymoon_," I stated, kissing along her neck as I pushed into her from behind. "_And we're behind on our daily quota_."

"_We have a…daily quota?"_ she asked breathlessly.

"_At least twice every twenty-four hours, remember?"_

She didn't respond until twenty or so minutes later, after we'd finished and we were actually doing what we were supposed to be doing in a shower.

Washing.

"_I think it should be three times every twenty-four hours. Pick me up for lunch today."_

So that's my plan.

If I can get away for an hour at lunch, I'm going over to the courthouse. I'd like to find a better place than the car for our noon rendezvous, but we're always late when we try to go home, and Mulder's going to be there today anyway, so…the car will work for today.

And maybe that sounds bad…I'm forty years old, plotting out nooners.

But I've also only been married for one week.

_Today_.

Which reminds me…I need to send Connie flowers.

"Mary likes punctuality," I said wryly to the Gorens as I pulled out my phone to look up a florist. "It's nice to know my head isn't the only one on the chopping block."

"It's only ten after eight," Mary said dismissively. Then she shrugged at Alex and said, "It's fine."

"Really?" I asked her. "You're going to bust my balls for two minutes, and they get nothing for ten?"

"Oh, but it's so much fun to bust your balls, Lupo," she replied with a grin.

"And now we're back to looking unprofessional," Bernard stated.

"Right. Exactly. Okay, so let's get to it," Mary said. "First off…and Lucas, close your ears for a second…that bit with the big dick jokes. It never happened, okay? Bobby picked it up by accident, and Jennifer's fine with it…so it never happened. Otherwise, I'm required to report the incident to my boss, who in turn will undoubtedly file a complaint with Ross and the whole lot of us will end up in sensitivity training, not to mention the black mark that'll end up on this joint investigation, which in my opinion has gone really well and I'd hate for there to be strained relations between our two departments because of something like that."

"Okay, I…definitely missed something," Bernard said, struggling to hold back laughter.

"I'll fill you in later," I told him, despite Mary shaking her head at both of us.

"Guys, I just said…it never happened."

"Moving on," Alex encouraged. "Since we've got a Mountie in the room, I'm guessing Leon Aman is in the building."

"That's right," Lucas said with a nod. "He bitched and moaned for most of the eight-hour drive, but he didn't say a word about anything to do with your case, so…he's all yours for interrogating, eh?"

"How's his health?" Bobby asked. "Bernard mentioned that you said he looked sick."

"He'll live. He's just being a little girl about the pain."

"Good. Bernard, he's all yours. Lupo, I want you working on Longley. His lawyer should be here shortly, and Goolsby's lawyer should be on the way, too, so Jennifer, he's yours."

Our respective acquisitions yesterday.

I chased that loser for almost two miles before I finally caught him. It had been a relief when Jennifer showed up and took off after the other guy, because I didn't want any of them getting away.

The violence involved in this case has gone on for long enough. I just want to get to the bottom of it and throw the perpetrators in jail.

And then I want to have two or three nights in a row of _not_ getting called out.

"Alex and Bobby…you two take the photos of Christina and everyone we've identified from the gang so far, and hit up the Maritime employees. See if anyone remembers anything. Give it a couple of hours and then come back here. In the meantime, McInnis, Daniels…you two come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"We're bringing Christina here. I think it's past time for us to pull off the gloves. We're going to put her in a room and then we'll let Bobby and Alex work their magic."

If McInnis or Daniels were bothered by the idea that Mary was going to let NYPD have first crack at a Witsec participant, they didn't show it.

They both seemed fine with the plan, which was a sure sign that Mary's already earned their respect.

"Let's be sure to give her a trashcan," Alex added, rolling her eyes as she looked over at Bobby. "And a box of Kleenex."

"I'm way ahead of you," Mary said with a nod. "Hell, maybe we'll even do the interrogation in the ladies' room."

Daniels laughed, but Alex seemed to like the idea.

"We'll play it by ear," Bobby said. Then he grabbed the file containing the photos of every known participant thus far and said, "Okay, we're going to the Maritime. Mary, text us when you leave the safe house, and we'll meet you back here."

"Got it," she agreed. "Everyone else clear on assignments? I don't want to make any deals yet, but you can dangle whatever you want in front of them to get them to talk. Just don't commit to anything, okay?"

We all had it.

Mary left, along with McInnis and Daniels, leaving me in the room with Jennifer, Bernard, and Lucas, and we had a couple more minutes to kill before the suspects showed up with their attorneys.

"So the doll's the boss, eh, Bernard?" Lucas commented.

"Doll?" Jennifer repeated, looking slightly amused. "You must be a very smart man."

"Why's that?"

"Because you waited to call her that until after she left," she told him, shaking her head.

"But that's a compliment."

"Not one she'd want to hear. And she's my boss, but not theirs," Jennifer finished.

"And she's single?" he asked hopefully.

"Not anywhere close," I told him firmly. I glanced over at Bernard and asked, "How do you two know each other again?"

"We were roommates at UCLA," my partner explained. "And Lucas has always had a thing for bossy blondes, so it's no wonder that Mary caught his eye, but that's a dead end, my friend."

"Ah, well, it was worth the asking," Lucas said. Then he grinned and looked at Bernard and asked, "And you've always had a thing for anything in a skirt, so how's that working out for you?"

"You were a player, Bernard?" Jennifer asked in amusement.

"In college," he clarified.

"Well, and as recently as six months ago," I said, unable to resist teasing him.

"You really want to bring out the hookup skeletons, Lupes?"

"No," I answered quickly. "Not at all."

"I didn't think so," he replied with a grin.

And it was almost a cat-who-ate-the-canary kind of grin, and I was curious as to what had him so happy at eight-fifteen in the morning.

I mean, I had an incredible start to my day, too, but I wasn't standing around smiling.

I almost asked, but then he caught my eye and just stared at me for a minute and I got the feeling that maybe he didn't want to say anything in front of other people.

Whether he considered _other people_ to be Jennifer or Lucas or both, I don't know, but he's my partner.

I'll wait him out.

"Okay, well, the boss said that making the eight-hour drive earned me the right to watch the interrogations, so I'm going to head off to the observation room. Third door on the left, right Bernard?"

"That'll get you a front row seat to Lupo's," he answered. "And Jennifer's. If you want to see mine, it's across the hall."

Lucas left and Jennifer said, "I can't believe Mary's going to let him observe."

"I think this case has lost most of its confidential status," I commented. "There are people dying right and left and it's not any secret that you've got a witness in custody. The only unknown is the location of the witness, and I'm not sure Mary even cares about that anymore."

"She _is_ pretty ticked about the idea that she might be playing us."

"God help her if she is," Bernard said. "She's going to find herself at the defense table right next to the men she claimed she'd testify against."

"Well, good luck," she said as she headed for the door. Then she looked at me and said, "Let's keep each other up to speed on new information. Our guys were on the same team, so we might be able to play one against the other."

"You got it."

As soon as she left, I looked at Bernard, and he was still smiling.

"Okay, what?" I asked him.

"What?" he repeated innocently.

"Did you ask Lauren to marry you? Because the way you were talking yesterday..."

"No," he answered, but it wasn't as vehement as I thought the answer might be.

It was downright thoughtful.

"You're really thinking about it."

"Um…maybe. But not yet."

"Uh huh. So what is it?"

"We're going to live together."

"That's great! Your place or hers?"

"We're not sure yet. A week ago I would've said hers, but since we've been forced to hang out at my place, I think maybe it's grown on her."

"Well, let me know either way," I told him. "Mulder's in the market, so you might get a quick sublet out of the deal."

"Can he afford that kind of scratch?"

"He'll be signing on the dotted line any minute now. He'll officially be a fed, and he's going to be pulling down bucks I wish I'd had at twenty-four."

"So he hasn't gone back to Secaucus yet?"

"No, he slept on our couch again last night. He might be there tonight, too."

"Ouch. That's tough on a newlywed," Bernard commiserated.

"Yes, it is," I agreed as I looked at my watch. "Which is why I need to get everything I can get out of Longley by twelve o'clock so that Connie and I can have…lunch."

Bernard slapped me on the back and followed me out of the conference room where we went our separate ways.

"Doug Longley," I said as I entered the interrogation room. His attorney was sitting next to him at the table, but I ignored him as I sat down across from the suspect. "I've got one question for you. Are you willing to die for Demachi?"

"He ain't gonna kill me."

"No. But when we put you in prison, and your cellie is from Rama's crew, then yes, you'll most likely die. Because I've run across a few of Rama's boys and let me tell you…they're some tough sons of bitches. You don't stand a chance."

"Detective, your scare tactics won't work with us," the lawyer spoke up. "And you can't hold my client forever."

"Oh, but we can. Do you know how many years you can get for a home invasion? Assault with a deadly weapon? Attempted murder? And considering your targets were officers of the law…you know, actually you'll be lucky if it's only Rama's boys who come after you. You'll be lucky if I don't come after you myself."

"I didn't do anything," Longley insisted. "It was Montoya."

"You were in the van. That makes you equally culpable."

"Do you have proof that my client was at the scene?"

"I've got a witness."

"Who, some druggie shacking up in the alley?" the attorney said, but Longley smiled, and it was slightly unnerving.

"Nah, it ain't a druggie," Longley stated.

"So you know who saw you. Interesting, since you're not admitting to being there."

"I'm just saying…it don't matter what that he says he saw. Cos he ain't gonna be talking soon enough."

I got up from the table, my chair scraping loudly against the floor as I slammed my hands down on the table.

"That sounds an awful lot like a threat. I'll be sure to add threatening the life of a witness to the charges."

"It ain't a threat. It's just a fact. Your boy Mike Logan? He's toast."

"How do you know his name?" I asked, fighting back the nauseous feeling that came from this guy's overabundance of confidence about the fact that Mike was going to end up dead.

"I ain't gotta tell you shit."

I stared at him hard, shoving down my temper so that I could figure out how to outsmart this guy.

_It shouldn't be too damn hard_, I thought sarcastically.

_Think, Lupo._

"Why was your buddy so scared to come in that he decided to kill himself instead?"

"Cos he's stupid."

"And you're not?"

"I'm not afraid of no damn cops."

"Okay," I said with a nod. "Okay, I'll be right back."

I left the room and went out into the hall for a minute.

In custody, we had two of Rama's people…the one that Lucas had brought back from Canada, and the one that Jennifer chased from the rooftop outside of the Gorens apartment.

We also have two of Demachi's people, both of which were in the van that night at the Gorens.

Mike had a fight with one, and got shot at by the other, but the idea that they'd specifically know his name...and so quickly. That was a little mind-boggling.

But Compton…the guy Logan helped take down after Jennifer cornered him in the alley…he might know Mike's name, right? Jennifer and Carolyn were both with him…it wasn't a stretch to think that between the two of them, they'd used his first and last names.

So how would Compton, one of Rama's boys, get that information to Demachi's crew?

And why, if they're in competition with each other?

I whirled around and burst back into the interrogation room.

"Patrick Compton," I said loudly.

"Yeah?"

"Do you know him?"

"No," he answered, but his body language said _yes_.

Interesting.

I left the room again and headed for Jennifer's interrogation room. I opened the door without knocking and said, "Patrick Compton."

"Who?"

"Do you know him? Because your buddy down the hall is putting some of this on him, but I'm going to need to hear it from you, too."

"Oh, yeah, Patrick…"

"That's where you got Logan's name, right?"

He stared at me blankly for a moment, but then he nodded and said, "Yeah, okay."

"How? Compton was in jail. And he didn't see what happened in the alley. He'd only know what happened to him."

"He…we…what did Doug say?"

"Nothing, but I figured you'd talk," I admitted.

I was grateful that Jennifer was tolerating my tactics because so far, she hadn't opened her mouth, and I hadn't even spared her a glance.

"What makes you think I'm gonna say anything about anything?

"Because you're the dumbass who let a woman catch you. A _woman_," I emphasized. "You're going to be the laughing stock of the crew now, right? I mean look at her. She's...she's..._little_."

_Please don't kill me, Jennifer_.

"But…"

"So we know you're not really a _man_. And you squealed about your connection to Compton. You know, you really should've just offed yourself like your other buddy. Because your life in prison is going to be miserable."

"Detective, is there a point to this line of questioning, other than being extremely inflammatory and offensive?" the attorney asked.

"You should've seen yourself," I said to Goolsby, ignoring the attorney. "You had at least a thirty-yard head start and she totally smoked you. I mean, it took me two miles to catch Doug…what'd it take you, Inspector? Half a mile? Less than that?"

"Less," she agreed curtly.

"Right, so there you go. And it was right in your own neighborhood, too. You can bet your ass that the word is already out on the street. A woman got one over on one of Demachi's crew. I wonder how long before he kicks your ass out."

It took longer than I expected, but I finally managed to piss him off.

"That worthless bastard won't kick me out of shit, you got me?"

"Hey!" his attorney said sharply.

"No, I ain't gotta sit here and listen to this shit. Demachi don't run shit like he thinks, alright?"

"Alright," I said encouragingly.

"And…and…that's all I'm gonna say."

I stared at him for a minute longer, and then finally risked a glance at Jennifer. She met my gaze and I tipped my head towards the door so she followed me out.

"I know. I'm sorry," I said immediately. "Really, really, _really_ sorry, and you know I don't think like that, but _they_ think like that, and…"

I stopped when she started laughing.

"Lupo, just tell me where you're going, okay? If I can read dick jokes and pretend it's a ballistics report, I can certainly listen to a few shots of chauvinist crap from a man who's about as far from being chauvinistic as any I've ever met."

"Okay, good."

"Yeah, so…what are you thinking? And how'd you know he'd spout off against Demachi like that?"

"I think Mary's right. And Alex and Bobby. I think there's a third person in the running, but I don't think it's coming from the outside. I think maybe the minions are staging a coup."

TBC...


	63. Chapter 63

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>Friday morning, I did something I very rarely do.<p>

I overslept.

Or should I say, _we_ overslept, because Carolyn was right there next to me when I opened my eyes at eight twenty-five.

I thought maybe a curse word was in order.

But then I thought about how good it felt to be horizontal.

And how relaxing it was to be surrounded by warmth and silence.

And speaking of warmth…

Carolyn's body was cranking out heat like a furnace, and everywhere that her skin touched mine, I could feel the burn.

And she was plastered against me.

And breathing heavily.

Damn.

I swallowed reflexively, forcing myself through the motion despite the fact that it felt as if I were swallowing razor blades, and then I brought my hand up to touch Carolyn's head.

Hot and dry.

She could use an entire day in the bed, but I'm not crazy enough to suggest it. Not after I deflected her attempts to get me to slow down yesterday.

And honestly, I'd love to spend the day in bed, too.

Another twelve hours of sleep sounded like heaven, but there was too much going on today.

There was too much going on for me to still be in the bed at eight twenty-five, too, but I needed a few more minutes to summon my strength to get up.

Tony Puccio would be ready and waiting for us this morning, and so should the lab results from the evidence that the CSU crew had collected yesterday.

And then of course, Shane O'Connor is in town.

He drove down last night, but since we called it quits at six-thirty, I told him that we'd meet him for coffee this morning.

At nine.

"Hey," I said gently as I ran my hand over Carolyn's hair.

"No."

"Good answer," I said, leaning over to kiss the top of her head. "You stay."

I slid out from under her grasp and then stood still for a moment as a wave of lightheadedness washed over me.

But it was short-lived.

I pulled the pack of pills out of yesterday's suit pocket and carried them with me into the bathroom where I filled a glass with water.

I stared at it for a moment, dreading the act of swallowing, but then I forced the pill down and turned on the shower water.

While the water warmed up, I picked up my cell phone and called Liz.

"How're you feeling?" she asked.

"Please just…don't ask," I said. "I'm hoping I just need to get my blood pumping and then I'll feel human again."

"Are you just now getting up?"

"Yeah. I'd say we slept through the alarm, but I don't remember setting one. Hey, can we stop by and see you this morning?"

"More drugs?"

"Times two. Carolyn's got it, too."

"I know you two share everything, but that's taking it to the extreme, don't you think?"

"I didn't want to kiss her, but she made me. She's bossy like that."

"Uh huh. Did you take any of the pills I gave you?"

"Yeah. Last night and just now."

"Well, I can't give you more antibiotic, but I might have something that'll help you feel better until you get more time to rest. Don't give Carolyn a pill. I'll start her off with the shot and then she can follow it up with pills, like you did."

"So you don't mind if we swing by?"

"No. Actually, I was going to call you anyway."

"Oh. Is everything okay?"

"I got your results back."

"Okay. Um…okay, well, we'll be there as soon as we can."

I hung up the phone and stood there for a moment, wondering why in the world I didn't just ask her the results while I had her on the phone.

But I know why.

Because I'm not ready.

And because I want Carolyn with me.

I got in the shower and stood for several minutes, just letting the hot water beat on my back.

Do I want Casey O'Grady to be my dad?

Does it really even matter at this point?

Of course it does.

That was the purpose of this whole fishing expedition – so that I'd know the truth.

"You didn't honestly think I'd take a sick day, did you?" Carolyn asked as she pulled back the curtain and got in the shower with me.

"You're sick."

"So are you."

"You shouldn't have kissed me yesterday."

"I'd have done a lot more than that if either one of us had the energy," she said with a tired smile as she reached for the shampoo.

Because last night, when we got to the hotel room, I'd had the best of intentions.

I mean it was early in the evening, I've got a beautiful wife, and we were spending the night in a fancy hotel suite, complete with a Jacuzzi tub and a king-sized bed. And there's a private balcony, too, so it should've been the perfect time for a night of passion, but there was one problem.

And not _that_ kind of problem.

My issue was just that I was so exhausted, I could barely move. Everything on me ached, even my eyelids, and the thought of summoning up the energy to make love to my wife was a little daunting.

"_Don't even think about it_," Carolyn had said to me as I stood in the middle of the room and looked around.

"_Oh, I'm thinking about it."_

"_It's not going to happen."_

"_Because I'm contagious?"_

"_Because you're sick. So get out of those clothes and lay down on the bed."_

"_But you just said…"_

"_I'm going to try to make you feel better."_

And did she ever.

She massaged my aching muscles and then she curled up next to me, pulling my head against her chest as she ran her fingers through my hair.

I went to sleep like that, with her holding me, and it was such a great feeling.

Being loved and cared for…it's a shame I had to wait until I was a grown man before experiencing that feeling, but that's okay.

I'm experiencing it _now_ and Carolyn was more than worth the wait.

"You seemed to have plenty of energy last night. That massage was exactly what I needed. But I still say you should've stayed further away from me. I could've slept on the sofa."

"You know as well as I do that viruses don't move that fast. I'm not sick because I kissed you yesterday, or because we slept together last night. I probably got it before you even knew _you_ were sick."

"True," I agreed, taking the bottle from her hand. I poured some into my palm and then motioned for her to turn around so that I could rub it into her hair. "I talked to Liz. She's got her needle cocked and loaded."

"Why do I get the feeling that you're enjoying the fact that I have to get a shot?"

"What kind of guy would that make me?"

"Mike Logan," she replied.

"Uh huh. Well don't worry – Liz said she'd have something for me, too."

"So I guess we'll moon her together then," she stated.

"It'll be a red-letter day for her."

"Are we going before or after O'Connor?"

"We don't have time to go before, but…"

"But what?"

"Liz has my DNA results."

"And?" she asked, quickly turning around to look at me.

"I told her to tell us when we get there."

She held my gaze for a moment and then nodded slowly and said, "Okay. So we'll call O'Connor and postpone just a little. That way we can go to the morgue first."

With our plan in place, we finished up in the shower. Not in the way I would've liked, but I did take a minute to hold her in my arms.

"I'm sorry you don't feel well," I said. "Does it count for anything that you feel really good to me?"

She chuckled and said, "You feel pretty good to me, too. Maybe tonight…"

"Definitely tonight."

We dried off and got dressed and then I placed a quick call to O'Connor.

"I've been asking around, my boy," he told me. "There's something going on, something more than it seems. But I've seen this kind of thing before."

"What kind of thing?"

"I'll tell you when we meet. How much more time do you need?"

"Another hour should do it. I'm sorry to put you off, but I need to go by the morgue first and…"

"'Tis no trouble, my boy. I'm in your world, to be sure. Shane O'Connor is just a man around these parts."

I barked out a laugh and replied, "Not exactly. The Italian I arrested yesterday was quaking in his boots and I only _implied_ your name. And I hope that's okay. I was only trying to settle things without escalating the tension."

"Use my name any time you like, my boy. Shaw tells me you kept him from some trouble."

"He was reacting out of emotion. He's not a killer," I said. And then I added, "Is he?"

"It's not his style, no. It was smart of you to recognize that. It seems like you're determined to keep the scales tipped in your favor."

"You don't owe me anything," I asserted. "Yesterday, I was just doing my job. And as for anything else…"

"Don't be trying to argue with the likes of me, Mike Logan," he said. "You could've hauled poor Shaw down to lockup, but you didn't. And the Westies are in enough of a mess as it is, so they didn't need another man down, to be sure."

"Okay, well…you're welcome."

"That's better. And we've got much to discuss. Are you sure you'll be having time for me this morning?"

"We'll make time. Ten o'clock."

"Aye. I'll be there."

Fifteen minutes later, Carolyn and I left the hotel suite, headed for the morgue.

"What are you thinking?" she asked me.

"That…I wish O'Grady weren't dead. Or that I'd thought to look sooner."

"Maybe Johnny will locate some family. You didn't ask O'Connor about it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I think…maybe I…I don't know."

"You were afraid to have hope," she supplied.

And of course, she's right.

"O'Grady seemed to be a good man," she continued. "And if you'd learned too much about him and then found out that he's not your father, it would've been a letdown."

"I should've asked anyway," I admitted. "Because like it or not, I still have hope."

"That's a good thing," she said with a smile.

"Are you sure? What if…"

"Hope is always a good thing."

She picked up my hand and held it the rest of the way to the morgue.

Once inside, I got my mind right.

What was this knowledge really going to change?

Specifically nothing.

"Ready?" Carolyn asked me when we got to the door of Liz's autopsy suite.

"What if it's not him?" I asked suddenly, pausing before opening the door. "What if we keep looking and it turns out my father is the most despicable man imaginable?"

"Okay."

"What would that make me?"

"The man I love," she answered simply. Then a slow smile spread across her face and she said, "Haven't we covered this?"

"I'm just checking. I mean, once we know, then we _know_. There's no going back."

"You don't think any less of Bobby, do you?"

"No," I said immediately. "So why do I even care? It's not going to make me a better person or a worse person…I'll be exactly the same."

"Right. But you'll know, and that's important to you."

So without another moment of hesitation, I pushed through the door.

"How can two sick people manage to look so good?" Liz said as a greeting. "It's actually kind of annoying."

"Good to see you, too," Carolyn told her. "How are things?"

"We have a lot of catching up to do. When are we going out for drinks?"

"Soon. As soon as Alex finishes the case they're all working on."

Liz nodded and then looked at me, and said, "The results are on the table."

"Just tell me. Is Casey O'Grady my father?"

"Yes."

TBC...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Happy Thanksgiving :)**


	64. Chapter 64

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>We spent two hours in the Maritime, and what did that get us?<p>

Not much.

We got confirmation that Christina had frequented the hotel during the time in question.

But none of the employees recognized any of the men in the photos as being her companion.

"Can you describe him?" I asked hopefully to one particular employee.

She seemed the most confident as she looked through the pictures.

"Maybe," she replied. "I mean, he was cute. But it's more like I'd know him if I saw him, you know?"

"Four months is a long time," Bobby pointed out. "What makes you remember this woman and her date?"

"Because they were all over each other. She'd come in and sit in the chair by the window and watch for him, and as soon as he came through the door, she'd go running…it was like something you'd seen on the news when soldiers come home from Iraq, you know? Like she hadn't seen him in months or years. And then two or three days later, it would be the same thing."

"So there's no doubt the meeting was for…sexual purposes," I clarified.

She nodded emphatically and said, "I was half-expecting them to just go at it right there in the lobby."

"Okay, so…how old do you think he was?"

"Old," she said immediately. I glanced at Bobby as I thought about her words, but then she elaborated. "At least thirty-five. Maybe even forty."

"Wow, you're right. That is old," I agreed with a smirk. "What about hair color?"

"Blonde. Really, really light blonde. And it was cut really short."

"Good," Bobby said encouragingly. "And how tall?"

"I don't know. I'm not good with that kind of thing, but he was taller than her. Quite a bit, I guess. Like her head came up to his chin," she decided and then she looked at me and Bobby and added, "Like you two."

"Okay, thank you, Brianna. We might be back with more pictures for you to look at," I told her.

She nodded and then hustled back to work.

"Tall, cute blonde guy," I said. "Let's get out our APB."

"Well, it confirms that it wasn't Demachi or Rama," he replied.

"And that she was here for a booty call."

My phone buzzed and I looked to see a message from Mary.

_**Can I just kill her now? Please? Fine – we'll be back at 1PP in about thirty minute**_s.

"We need to head back," I said. "Mary's on her way, and it sounds like Christina's being her typical annoying self."

So we left the hotel, heading for the SUV, and I couldn't help but let my mind wander to Mike.

Earlier, he'd called Bobby, but since he'd been in the process of sweet-talking the hotel manager into letting us have carte blanche with her employees, I took the call.

"_It's him,"_ Mike said when I answered, not questioning why it was me on the phone instead of Bobby. "_Casey O'Grady."_

"_The DNA results confirmed it?"_

"_Yes. Carolyn and I just left the morgue and we're headed to the diner across the street from 1PP. O'Connor's meeting us there."_

I couldn't decide what to think about O'Connor, mostly because I hadn't expected to like a mobster as much as I like him.

And the fact that he seems to want to protect Mike…well, that's enough to make me want to trust him, too.

Like Bobby, Mike's never had enough people in his corner.

_Although he does now_, I corrected. I could tick off half a dozen people who would willingly take a bullet for him.

More than that, even.

"_How do you feel about that?"_ I asked him.

"_About having coffee and bagels with O'Connor? Or about O'Grady?"_

"_Either. Both. And how are you feeling in general? Because you don't sound good at all."_

"_Well, I just got my second shot in less than twenty-four hours, and I was too sick to be able to satisfy my wife, either last night or this morning, and now I've managed to make her just as sick as me…on top of that, I found my real father, who I can't talk to because he died nine months ago, and now I've got a mob boss who wants to join forces with me because another mob boss has put a price on my head…but you know what? Surprisingly enough, I'm holding my own."_

"_Not surprising at all,"_ I answered. "_And you know, as far as that price being on your head, I can take care of that pretty quickly."_

"_If you say one word to anyone…"_

"_You mean if I tell the truth?"_

"_Alex, I'm serious. What's done is done."_

"_What's done is that Demachi's men think you killed one of their own."_

"_Are you really going to argue with me about this? I sat in the car while that piece of shit was going after Bobby…was going after you. I wish I would've killed him, so if they think I did it, then fine. Better than fine, because that means they'll come after me instead of you."_

The man was frustrating, and yet I wanted to hug him.

In the midst of his personal crisis, he's still thinking about me.

It's a strange feeling for me to think that I love a man other than Bobby, one I'm not technically related to, and yet I really love Mike.

And no, not like I do Bobby, but still…

"_Okay,_" I conceded.

_"Okay? Oh, that's just great. Now you've got it, too."_

_"What? Got what?"_

_"Strep. Or something, because there's no way you'd give up so quickly unless you're sick as a dog."_

I laughed at the conviction with which he made the statement, and then said, "_I'm not sick at all. I just recognize the futility of arguing with you."_

_"Finally_," he said dramatically.

"_So…O'Grady_," I stated. And then I couldn't help but smile a little as I said, "_Your father was a cop."_

_"I guess so."_

_"And a good one. So this time it's true – like father, like son."_

We talked for another minute and then I saw Bobby gesturing to me.

_"I need to go, Mike. It looks like Bobby just talked our way into the employee break room."_

_"Okay. You're going back to 1PP today?"_

_"Most likely before lunch," _I replied.

_"We'll see you then. And tell Bobby for me, okay? About O'Grady."_

_"I will. You and Carolyn take it easy. And be careful."_

That phone call was followed by Bobby and me interviewing every available employee who might have been on duty when Christina Cincinelli was in the hotel, which in turn, was followed by the text from Mary.

"How do you feel about dealing with Christina?" Bobby asked as he climbed into the passenger seat.

I was instantly on the alert.

"Why, what's wrong? Does your head hurt?" I replied as I reached across the console and put my hand on his forehead.

"I'm fine," he said, although he stayed still while I confirmed that his skin was cool. "I'm just trying to figure out how to get her to tell the truth."

"Oh, so I get to beat it out of her," I said with a grin.

"Not exactly. But she doesn't like you, and she knows you don't feel sorry for her. I think you're more likely to make her mad."

"We haven't really seen her mad yet, have we?"

"No, and I'm wondering why. Most witnesses should go through the gamut of emotions, one of which being anger for the situation they're in. But even though she's been moody, she really hasn't been mad."

"So I get to poke the bear. Sounds like fun."

"I thought you might like that."

"What is it that you think she's going to spill?"

"I'm not sure. But I want to see what does it. That'll tell us where she's most vulnerable, and it'll give us a clue as to what's important to her. So far, it hasn't bothered her that her brother and his family were murdered…she was only mildly upset about Derek and Anna, and by the next day she seemed to have forgotten them altogether. Now she's claiming to be in love with this mystery man, and I can't quite decide if that information slipped and that's why she started throwing up, or if it was a well-placed lie."

I came to a stop at a red light and turned to look at him as I said proudly, "Boy, that hamster is back in rare form, isn't he?"

He smiled back at me and said, "I'd like to think my brain power isn't dependent upon a rodent on an exercise wheel."

"You probably have a couple of them in there," I teased, but then I asked, "So your head doesn't hurt at all?"

"I didn't say that," he answered honestly. "But it's better than yesterday."

Better than yesterday. I'd have to take it.

Short of forcing him into the bed where he'd undoubtedly drive himself crazy, doing simple, non-physical casework was probably the next best thing. I could keep an eye on him, and if his mental alertness started slipping, I'd hopefully be able to pick up on it quickly.

I filled him in on Mike's news as I finished driving us to 1PP.

"Is he going to have your dad look for any family or other close friends? Maybe his partner on the force, or an ex-wife?" Bobby posed. "Surely there's someone who knows a little bit more about the man."

"I'm sure Dad's been working on it, since he hasn't come home yet. He's probably waiting to get the go-ahead from Mike before he shares any of the information, but I didn't really have time to get into that with Mike. He sounded like death warmed over, and he said Carolyn's sick, too."

"They're coming into 1PP after they meet with O'Connor?"

"That's what he said."

"Good. With both of them being off their game, and Mike on Demachi's list, I'd just as soon they stay close."

Me, too.

I might have to call for reinforcements though since now I seem to be the only one healthy out of the four of us.

When we got up to the eleventh floor, the department was filled with action.

Lauren and Sean were talking animatedly to each other in the vicinity of my desk, and Lauren also had a phone to her ear.

"I'm telling you," she said to Sean and then she held up a finger to him and said into the phone, "Are you kidding me? Why would you do that?"

"Is everything okay?" I asked my brother.

"Peachy. I'd love to explain, but I think you've got your hands full, too."

"Why?" Bobby asked him.

"Bobby! Alex!"

Mary was in the hall next to the conference room, and I can't swear to it, but I think she's wearing different clothes than she was earlier, and then Ross came up behind her with a solemn expression on his face.

"I need you in here now," he called out to us.

And not in the way of _you're in a world of trouble_ but more along the lines of _could this day get any worse_.

"What the hell happened while we were gone?" I mumbled to Bobby after I cast Sean an apologetic look and then headed for the hallway.

"I think we missed a little action," he commented as he nodded his head towards the side of the room where there was an overturned table and papers littered the floor.

And was that blood?

"Damn, I hate to miss action," I replied, but honestly, I was glad we did miss it.

Bobby didn't need to be around too much excitement right now.

I was worried enough about him last night during _that_ kind of excitement, and yet there was also no way I was going to tell him no.

Not when he looked at me with that hesitant, boyishly sexy expression.

And he probably knows that, too. He knows I can't say no to him.

Not that I _wanted_ to say no…I just worry.

But still…so today, it was probably a good thing that we were off showing photos to mild-mannered hotel employees while apparently a small hurricane hit the squad room.

"What's going on?" I asked when we met up with Ross and Mary.

"Oh, not much," Mary answered. "Unless you count the one dead Albanian who was shot by a Mountie after a brawl broke out during the transport of the suspects back to lock up."

"There was a shooting in here?" I restated in surprise. "Everyone else is okay?"

"Sessions is facing suspension," Ross said. "But other than that, yes."

At my raised eyebrow, Mary said, "Apparently Goolsby and Longley got into a shoving match and it got out of control. Sessions' weapon was on his desk. Goolsby grabbed it and aimed at Longley. Lucas shot him."

"Wait, why were those two fighting?" Bobby asked. "They're both Demachi's men."

"I don't know," Mary admitted. "I only beat you back by a few minutes. The smoke was just starting to clear. I don't know what happened during the interrogations."

I noticed that Ross was glancing around the room, and it hit me who was missing.

"Where's Jeremy?"

"I don't know," he answered distractedly. "I was coming in to talk to him when I heard the shot, and I haven't gotten around to asking Hayes or Eames yet. But I haven't seen him."

"No, don't do that!" I heard Lauren yell, and then Sean motioned to her and she looked over her shoulder at us before lowering her voice and saying something else.

After another second, she hung up the phone and turned for the elevator with Sean hot on her heels.

"Detectives!" Ross called out.

But they kept going, and I could only guess that it's because they didn't want to have to explain whatever was going on with Jeremy.

"I'm sure they didn't hear you," Bobby said quickly, and then he looked at Mary and said, "So Christina's here?"

"I've got her in an interrogation room. She's crying already, so have fun with that."

"How do you want to play this?" I asked Bobby.

"Chief Ross?" a man called out.

IAB.

I almost felt bad for Sessions, and yet if he was dumb enough to leave his weapon on his desk…

"I don't want everyone getting interviewed right now," Mary asserted under her breath. "I haven't heard about the results of the interrogations. Can you stall them?"

"I've got Sessions and Lucas in my old office. We'll start with them, and that should buy you ten or fifteen minutes," he answered without hesitation, making me appreciate the _new_ Ross as opposed to the _old_ Ross. "Go."

TBC...

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I mean it this time. Happy Thanksgiving! **


	65. Chapter 65

**Mulder POV**

* * *

><p>I'd say it was like a dream, but it wasn't because I never once dreamed of any shit like this.<p>

It would've been impossible.

Because how could I have possibly known that I'd be _here_?

It was so far from my scope of reality...I mean, the few times when I've let my mind wander and think about how my life could be better, it usually involved creeping through DOD shit.

Or maybe skulking the Secret Service.

Or scoring a smoking hot chica.

Those would all be righteous things, but this…

I glanced down at the laminated badge in my hand, the one that was so spanking new I could practically see my face in it, and I had to smile.

Unfuckingbelievable, right?

I mean, shit.

I'm a freaking technical analyst for the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

How awesome is that?

It's like…like…I don't know. Something from a movie that I can't put my finger on.

I called my mom as I headed for the subway. I thought she might be upset that I was finally blowing the coop, but she seemed okay.

Well, sort of.

She didn't yell, so I guess that's a plus.

"You're telling me this Bureau job is legitimate?" she asked somewhat skeptically. "You're not just talking in code, trying to tell me you're hacking them, are you, Norman?"

"No, Mom. I got an ID badge and everything. It's a regular desk job."

"They know you've been in prison?"

"No, I hacked my record and erased it," I retorted.

"Don't get smart with me, Norman."

"I'm sorry. Yes, ma'am, they know about that."

"That friend of yours got you the job?"

"Lupo? Sort of. He introduced me to the woman who helped me get it."

"And you're moving to the city," she stated. "Do you have any idea of the crime rate in New York?"

"I'm friends with cops, Mom. I have an idea."

"And what's that about? You're friends with people nearly twice your age. That's not normal. You know that, right?"

"When have you ever known me to be normal?" I argued, but she did have a point about that.

But if they like me and I feel like I'm a _part_ of something, then what's the BFD?

"Are you coming home tonight?" she asked on a sigh.

"It's Friday," I answered, as if that explained everything.

Yeah because I'm usually Mr. Nightlife, right?

No, but I'd like to be.

I'd like to go on a date.

I'd like to make friends.

I'd like to have a freaking _life_, right?

And maybe it's because I almost didn't.

Maybe that's what woke me up.

Getting shot, I mean.

But really, I think it's Lupo.

Because before I met him, I didn't have much faith in the outside world.

I mean, my Mac…it was all I needed. When I'm banging out digits, the freaking world is right _there_.

And people…they're fucked up.

I mean, my mom and dad…they live in the same house but don't talk to each other.

What's that about?

That's supposed to be a marriage?

They're supposed to _love_ each other?

It's more like they barely tolerate each other.

And I know they love me, but they treat me like I'm an FBI-raid waiting to happen.

I'm the weird son who got locked up for peeking around in NORAD.

When I took over their basement, after I got out, my mom was happy. Because by then, the _good_ son was gone…killed in a car accident, so I think my mom liked me being in the basement.

I was _safe_ there. And I guess I was okay with it, too. I didn't need anything else.

But Lupo…he's just the coolest guy ever.

I was leery about him the first time I met him, but he was nice to me and he was patient with me and he didn't act like I'm a freak.

Because he appreciates my skills.

It felt good to be able to help him with his cases. Although I'll admit it. I nearly had a panic attack that day he came to the house and said he wanted me to go into the city with him.

I guess that's what happens to a guy who spends years in a basement.

The rest of the world gets pretty damn scary.

But he needed my help and he said I could cruise the DA's office infrastructure, so…I had to do it.

And it wasn't so bad.

It didn't hurt that I caught a glimpse of Lupo's ten on video, either.

That was the first time I saw her, and I still remember the feeling that I got when I looked at her.

It was just…_oh my God_.

And then I figured a hottie like her would have to be a total bitch, right? But then I met her and she's _nice_ and she really loves Lupo and the two of them…they're not like my mom and dad at all.

They're like…like…I don't know. Jeez, what is it with my lack of metaphors lately?

"So what if it's Friday?" my mom asked me. "Does that mean you're coming home or you're not?"

"Not," I answered, even though I wasn't sure. I hadn't asked Lupo yet if I could stick around another night.

_And maybe I shouldn't_, I thought.

I mean, they just got married last week and now they had a loser like me hanging on their couch.

I've been trying to make myself useful…I keep Otto happy and take him on long walks so that they can have some time together without me in the apartment.

And this morning before I left for my meeting with Agent Stern, I emptied the dishwasher.

I was going to put a load of clothes in the washing machine, but I didn't. Partly because I'm not exactly sure how to turn it on, but mostly because I figured I'd better not touch their dirty clothes.

I mean, Connie's underwear would be in there, right?

And I shouldn't even be _thinking_ about her underwear, much less _touching_ it.

Don't get me wrong.

I'm not crushing on her or anything.

I mean, okay…sure, maybe a little.

But more just because I want someone like her.

I want someone who _gets_ me.

Before I met Lupo, I didn't think anyone ever could.

But he does.

And so does Connie.

And all of their friends.

None of them even blinked when I went out with them.

And I heard that when I was in the hospital, while Lupo and Connie went home to get cleaned up and take a nap, the Logans stayed in my room for hours so that I wouldn't be alone.

How awesome is that?

They don't even know me.

Not really, anyway.

But they did that, and now Carolyn helped get me this ridiculous job...

I finally got my mom off the phone, and I had a moment of guilt since she was disappointed that I wasn't coming home, but I couldn't let her hose me.

Because I can't go all C-64 out in Jersey, right?

I'm in my _prime_.

And I might mimic dribbleware for a while, but I'll get there.

I stood outside the subway station unsure about what to do.

I told Lupo I'd go back to his place and hang there until I heard from him, but I was riding on a high.

I knew Lupo was in the cage with some wannabes and the ten was in court, so I couldn't hit up either one of them.

I had some work to do for the other ten…Hayes. I left it jamming on my beige toaster so there might be a yahtzee waiting on me, but still…

I looked at my phone for a minute and tossed around my options.

Could I do it?

Hell yeah.

This is what I wanted, right?

A job.

A pad.

A girl.

And _friends_.

But what if he thinks I'm a freaking Dilbert? I mean, I _am_. And he's a pretty boy. But he seemed nice enough. Besides, what's the worst that can happen?

_He could tell me to fuck off. _

Or he might not.

And I know for a fact that McClane isn't scared of shit, so I'm not going to be either. Or at least, I'm not going to let it stop me.

So I dialed Jeremy's number.

"Mulder?" he questioned when he answered, like he was surprised to hear from me. But he knew it was me. He's got my number in his phone.

"Yeah, dude. Whaddup?"

"I'm fixing coffee. It's the story of my life. So did you get a hit on the search?"

"Not yet. I got my screamer running through the sandbox, but I haven't checked the output yet."

"Oh, that's right - you were going to the FBI today, weren't you? How'd that go?"

"Dude, I'm like Flynn, right?"

"You're the man," he responded enthusiastically. "When do you start?"

"A week from Monday. If I'm lucky, I'll be unpacked in my own place by then, you know what I'm saying?"

"That's cool. You move fast."

"Fast? It took me twenty-four years to get here," I countered, but I couldn't help but smile.

Sometimes life is just _good_.

"Still…better late than never. Where are you?"

"I'm at the subway station at Chambers."

"I'm due for a break. Go across Centre to Albella's and I'll meet you there in fifteen minutes. I can't buy you a beer to celebrate your new job, but I can buy you a cup of coffee."

"If you can swipe a standalone, I'll scout the latest while we're there," I offered. "I'm guessing we'll find some seriously cool shit."

I put my phone in my pocket, the phone that Lupo had given me while I was still in the hospital, and then I hoofed it over to the café.

And I have to say it…I've never actually been in a coffee shop.

I mean, not a real one.

I've hacked their systems before. Not because there's anything cool in them, but just to see if I could.

That was preschool shit and it was more a skill-builder than anything.

But walking in for real…it felt kind of weird. There were people at the tables, dressed in suits and ties and they were reading newspapers or talking to nice-looking women dressed in equally businesslike attire.

Although I don't look too bad, either. I didn't put on a suit because I don't have one, but I was wearing my best polo shirt.

And I even had it tucked in.

"Sit anywhere you want, sugar," a woman from behind the counter said to me. I glanced at her and saw that she was about my age and kind of cute, and then she came around the counter and followed me to a table where she asked, "Coffee?"

I forced myself to hold back my typical rhetoric.

I mean, I know I sound strange when I'm talking. It used to be that I only ever talked to myself so it didn't make any difference.

And I'm not trying to _completely_ reinvent myself, but still…

"Sure," I answered, deciding that a little caffeine won't kill me.

She turned over the cup that was on the table and then looked at me as she filled it. "You probably get this all the time, but you know, you look just like Adam Brody. Well, almost. If you had brown eyes, you'd be a dead ringer."

How was I supposed to respond to that? I don't have a clue who this Adam guy is, so I don't know if she's insulting me or complimenting me.

"Um…thanks."

"Don't get me wrong," she said as she tipped her head and continued to stare at me. "You've got really nice eyes."

She didn't wait for me to respond, but instead went on to the next table.

"Dude, the waitress was hitting on you?" Jeremy asked with a grin as he sat down in the booth across from me. He shoved a laptop across the table and then leaned back against the seat and said, "Should I go away? I don't want to cramp your style."

"What style, man? Shit, I didn't have a clue what to say to her," I said, fighting off my embarrassment. But then I asked, "Who's Adam Brody?"

"IMDB him," he answered with a shrug. "But from the tone of her voice, I'm sure it's a good thing. Although you have to watch waitresses. Usually they flirt for the tips more than anything."

"Huh."

I might have to spend more time hanging with Jeremy. He might be younger than me, but he's probably got a lot more experience. Probably? More like definitely, considering I have no experience whatsoever.

"How's life as a gopher?" I asked him as I opened up the laptop.

"Pretty cool," he admitted. "I mean, there's a lot of fetching going on, but still…it's a hell of a lot better than Taco Bell, you know what I'm saying?"

"I'm feeling you," I agreed. "And you're working this case with the ten, huh?"

He looked at me questioningly for a minute and so I said, "Hayes. You don't think she's hot?"

He broke into a grin and started to say something, but then the waitress came by again, this time to fill up Jeremy's cup.

I braced myself for conversation, but then she barely said a word to either of us.

"See?" Jeremy said after she walked away. "Alone, you were a tourist or a businessman. You were much more likely to fall for her act and then you'd leave her a big tip. Now that I'm here, she sees us as a couple of frat boys who'll probably stiff her."

"Seriously?"

He shrugged and then smiled and said, "But back to Hayes. God _damn_ she's hot. Bernard is one lucky son of a bitch. Although she's not the only one. I can totally see why my dad got into police work because the women there are _fine_."

"But didn't he marry a doctor?"

"Well, yeah, but they haven't even been married a year yet. Although he's not exactly a player either, so…I don't know. It's not like he was hooking up with any of the good-looking ones."

"Are you?"

"Hooking up with a detective?" he asked in surprise. "No. No way. All of the ones I know are already taken. Although there was that one marshal the other night…"

"Dunn," I said with a nod. "Did you see the way she was looking at Mr. C? I hate to tell you, man, but even I could tell that she's into him."

He laughed and said, "Yeah, I know. I saw it, too. But so no, I'm not hooking up with any of them. I'm actually not hooking up at all. Shit, it's been…two weeks. What about you? Any action in Jersey?"

Two weeks. And he was talking like that was a long time.

I was too embarrassed to tell him the truth.

"It's been a long time," I answered vaguely. And then I focused on the computer screen and a rush of excitement went through me. "Hey, check it. I pinged the IP to flush out the ace, right? Low-grade stalking but it's like walking the dog, you know what I'm saying? And let me tell you, nature's calling, dude. Shit."

Jeremy stared at me for a minute, and I realized that I'd slipped right back into my distinctive vernacular, but then he grinned and said, "The hacker's using the Wi-Fi again?"

"Freaking A, dude!" I answered as he pulled out his cell phone. "You're calling the ten, right? If you haul ass, you might get there before the hackers leave."

"Yeah," he said, nodding as he dialed his phone. Then he smirked and added, "And it's _Detective Hayes_."

"Right. Sorry. Habit."

I might need to stop calling Connie that, too.

Although she doesn't seem to mind.

And she's the _original_ ten.

"No answer," Jeremy said. "Shit. We can't let this ride."

"What about Eames?" I asked, but he was already dialing.

I closed the laptop and watched expectantly, but after a minute he slammed his phone closed and looked at me with conviction.

"Let's go," he stated. "Are you in?"

"For what?" I asked.

"There's a subway station a block from the bar. We'll head that way and we'll keep trying Eames and Hayes. If the hackers are still there, we can sit on them until we get help."

"What if they leave?"

"Then we'll follow them. Maybe we'll be able to find out where they live. And if we're slick in the bar, we might be able to get a name from the bartender or something."

Jeremy stood up and pulled a five dollar bill from his wallet and then tossed it on the table.

"Well?" Jeremy asked.

I stood up and I could feel the twinge in my back from the recent gunshot wound, but even more than that, I could feel a tremendous rush of adrenaline.

_This must be how Lupo feels when he's gettin' it done._

"I'm balls deep, dude. Let's check it."

TBC...


	66. Chapter 66

**Connie POV**

* * *

><p>"No, I changed it."<p>

"Why? When?" I asked.

"Last night," Mike answered before taking a sip of his coffee.

We were standing in the hallway outside of the courtroom. The trial was scheduled to begin in a few minutes, and he'd just informed me that he had reworked the opening statement.

And don't get me wrong.

I don't care that he did.

In fact, last week I suggested making the exact same change.

But when I said it, he had a ready argument for me as to why the assertion needed to stay as it was.

"_If I go too bold it might turn off a jury," _he'd said confidently.

We discussed it briefly, since I thought otherwise, but he stuck to his guns, and since he's the boss, I let it go.

But now he's saying he made the language more forceful.

So while I completely agree with the change, since as far as I'm concerned, in a case like this, there's no such thing as too bold, I'm still surprised.

"Why?" I asked again when he didn't elaborate.

"Does it matter? It's what you wanted."

"I know. I'm just…oh my God," I said suddenly.

"What?"

"When did you see her?" I asked as a smile spread across my face.

"Who?" he questioned and then he checked his watch and said, "We'd better get inside."

"Last night?" I asked, grabbing up our things. "It had to be last night because when I left at five-thirty, you were still set in your ways, and you don't change things for Jack either, so…"

"Fine," he said, coming to an abrupt stop before opening the courtroom door. "You're right. I saw her last night. She came to the office. Now can we go to trial or do you want to stand out here while I tell you what she said and how she looked?"

"I want to stand out here," I teased.

He rolled his eyes at me and opened the door, holding it so that I could go in ahead of him.

"This doesn't get you out of it," I whispered over my shoulder.

"I didn't expect that it would. I'll take you to lunch."

"Oh, I…I can't."

"Lupo?"

"Yeah. But after court, okay? We'll have a drink in your office and you can tell me exactly what she was said. And how she looked."

He snorted, a very un-Mike-like thing to do, and then we got down to business.

Fun and games are all good and well until it's time to be serious.

And convicting the man guilty of a robbery-homicide is most definitely serious.

We'd gone through jury selection earlier in the week, so this morning, we started right away with the opening statements.

When it comes to the courtroom, I have to say it...Mike's one of the best.

And this morning, he was _the_ best, and that includes Jack McCoy.

I mean, he absolutely nailed the opening argument, and things only got better after that.

Three hours later, when we were ready to break for lunch, I had a feeling that the defense attorney was going to request a meeting, and I wasn't wrong.

"When can we talk, Mr. Cutter?" the lawyer asked.

"My office. One o'clock," he answered. "But your client had better come to terms with the fact that he'll be doing a considerable amount time behind bars."

The attorney nodded and left the courtroom ahead of us.

"I'll see you at one," Mike said to me. "Tell Lupo I said hello."

I didn't exactly plan on doing much talking with Lupo, but I wasn't about to tell Mike that.

"Sure," I agreed as we went through the front doors. I scanned the area but didn't see Lupo's car yet. "Nice job on that opening statement. So which was it?"

He raised an eyebrow at me in question, and I tried to hold back a smile as I elaborated by saying, "What made you change the wording? Was it what she said? Or how she looked?"

"Look, Connie…I know you tried to tell me last week and I…"

"I'm not mad," I assured him quickly. "Just curious. I mean, you haven't even had a date with this woman and you already seem…I don't know. Smitten."

"I am _not_ smitten," he argued. "I barely know her."

"She came to the office last night? It had to have been late. How'd she know you'd still be there?"

"She called."

"So that makes…three phone calls yesterday?"

He was getting flustered and I was probably having entirely too much fun teasing him but I couldn't help myself.

I've heard more about Jennifer _before_ their first date than I heard about Anna, even after two dates.

And the look on his face when he talks about her…it's really cute.

"Are you keeping record?" he asked me.

"So what'd she look like?" I questioned, shrugging off his teasing accusation.

"You've seen her."

"I mean last night. You asked me if I wanted to hear what she said and how she looked, so…"

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Why, yes I am," I replied with a grin.

He looked at his watch and then scanned the street and said, "Where's Lupo? You're never going to make it back by one if he doesn't hurry up."

"I'll just have to…eat…more quickly," I deflected vaguely. "And you're changing the subject."

He sighed and then said, "She was in jeans. And a blouse."

"I'm not asking what she was wearing."

"She looked nice," he admitted.

"Nice? I hope that's not what you plan on telling her when you pick her up for your date tonight. As compliments go, that's kind of…"

"I think she looked beautiful," he said, and the playful tone of our conversation suddenly changed to serious. He stared at me intently as he said, "I can't stop thinking about her, and you know me…I'm not the type to get crazy about a woman, but…I don't know. I think I kind of am now. And I'm worried about tonight. I'm worried that I'll screw it up."

His honesty and willingness to show me his vulnerability made me want to hug him.

But we were on the courthouse steps and it wasn't really an appropriate venue, so instead, I put my hand on his arm, squeezing a little as I said, "You're not going to screw it up. You're a nice guy, Mike, so just be you and you'll be fine."

"You know, I'm not exactly working off the best track record."

"That doesn't matter. Do you know how many bad relationships I had before Lupo? How many _he_ had before me?"

He looked at me curiously for a minute, as though he hadn't considered that dating hadn't always come easy for me, but before he could respond, I saw his gaze shift to just past my shoulder and then he seemed to become aware of my hand on his arm, and he moved slightly away.

"Sorry I'm late," Lupo said as he came up behind me.

I turned around and found him standing there holding a huge bouquet of flowers.

"You buy her flowers for being five minutes late?" Mike asked as I buried my nose amidst the roses and inhaled deeply.

"One week anniversary," Lupo explained, sounding slightly embarrassed.

How sweet is he to think about something like that?

If I hadn't already planned on him getting lucky during our lunch hour, the pink roses would've sealed the deal.

"That's right. Congratulations," Mike said. "I should let you two get to lunch. Connie, I'll see you at one."

I said goodbye to Mike and then wrapped my arms around Lupo.

"You are so sweet," I said into his ear. "Thank you."

"Thank _you_," he countered as he took hold of my hand and we started walking down the sidewalk. I looked at him questioningly and he smiled and added, "For marrying me."

"You're pulling out all of the romantic stops today, aren't you?"

"You know romance isn't my thing."

I glanced at the roses and then looked back at him and asked, "Really?"

"Sweetheart, if I were romantic, I would've gotten us a hotel room somewhere nearby. Instead, all I did was find us the perfect parking spot."

Call me crazy, but I look forward to our lunchtime trysts in the car. It feels dangerous and forbidden and extremely hot.

Of course, I'd be mortified if we ever get caught, but that's not part of my plan.

"Who wants a hotel room when we've got a perfectly good Chevrolet?" I asked him.

He smiled at me and we both picked up the pace.

"So is everything okay with Cutter? It looked like the two of you were having a pretty serious conversation."

"It's fine. I think he's a little nervous about his date tonight."

"That's understandable, considering what he's been through lately."

"I was hoping to have time to talk with her beforehand, but I'm not sure it's going to work out. What do you think of her?"

"Who?"

"Jennifer," I told him, finally realizing that we hadn't really talked much last night so I hadn't passed on that tidbit.

"The marshal? She's his date?"

"You sound surprised. You don't like her?"

"No, I do. Actually, I like her a lot considering she didn't bat an eye when I belittled her in front of a suspect this morning. And then when the shooting started…"

"Wait, there was a shooting? Where?"

"At 1PP," he answered as we rounded a corner and entered a parking structure. "Two suspects got into a fight and one grabbed a gun, and then Lucas shot him, and…"

"How did a suspect get a gun? And who's Lucas? And why were you belittling Jennifer?"

By this time, we were finally at the car.

It was parked in the very last space, behind a concrete stanchion and there wasn't a camera in sight.

Is it crazy that I could feel the excitement rolling through me just from that realization? He'd definitely found the perfect spot.

Although it sounded like maybe we needed to spend some time talking and catching each other up…

We stood at the back of the car, looking at each other as we debated whether or not a quickie was the right thing to do.

"I really want to hear about your morning," I said.

"And it sounds like I need to catch up on what's going on with Cutter. And I know you started a trial this morning."

I set the flowers down on the trunk of the car and then moved my hands up to Lupo's cheeks. I love the feel of his eternal stubble.

Of course, I love the feel of _every_ part of him.

"We can talk tonight," I suggested, and I could feel the anticipation building. I stepped closer to him and he slipped his arms around me, running his hands over my back.

"Tonight sounds good," he agreed, bringing his lips closer to mine.

"And the shooting…everyone's fine, right?"

"Except for the bad guy."

"Okay."

And then at last, he closed the distance, pressing his lips against mine and just like that, the debate was over.

If there ever really was a debate.

We can talk in front of Mulder.

We can't do _this_ in front of Mulder.

We stood outside of the car, kissing until the need was nearly overwhelming, and then he opened the passenger side door.

Bernard would probably kill us if he ever stopped to consider where we do this. Since he hasn't said anything about it, other than to tease Lupo, I can only guess that he assumes we get into the backseat, but it's much easier in the passenger seat.

Lupo sat down and then pulled me onto his lap while quietly praising my choice of attire.

Not that I often wear anything but skirts to work anyway, but still…I know what he means. Because it makes this whole thing a lot easier, not to mention how good it feels to have him run his hands up my legs, which he did with unbridled enthusiasm, grabbing onto my backside and pulling me roughly against him, setting off a fresh series of sparks inside of me.

I reached down between us and worked feverishly to undo his belt and his pants. I was getting to the point of desperation, which is absolutely ridiculous considering that before Lupo, I've never done a nooner in my life, and yet now I can't wait another second to get to it.

"Lupo," I managed to say in frustration when I couldn't get his pants out of the way. I didn't have enough room to work since he was still rocking me against him, and it felt so good that I didn't want him to stop and yet I needed him to so that I could reach between us better, but the feel of his hands on me and his lips against my throat and the incredible hardness of him that pushed against me with every downward motion…five minutes in the car and he already had me ready to come.

But I still wanted more.

I needed to _feel_ him.

I needed to get him out of these damn pants…

Finally, either because he was taking pity on me or because he was at the same point of desperation, he moved his hands between us and managed to get his pants out of the way and then he immediately slid his hands beneath my skirt again, shoving my underwear aside before guiding me down onto him in a slow, measured manner that was a complete contradiction to our frantic need and yet it was absolutely perfect.

In fact, the whole event was perfect, up to and including twenty-five minutes later when we were standing back outside of the car.

"Are you going to make your one o'clock meeting with Cutter?" he asked me as I straightened his tie.

He had a cute little smile on his face, one that made me want to drag him back in the car and see if he was ready for round two, but we _do_ have jobs.

"I'll be close enough."

"You're meeting him back at the courthouse?"

"No, at the office. I think we might cut a deal."

"Good," he said with a nod. "I can drive you over there."

"I'm not sure if it'd be safe for me to get back into the car with you," I teased, unable to keep from kissing him one last time.

I can't help myself. I love kissing him. His lips are just…irresistible. That's probably why it was the foremost thing that crossed my mind when he showed up for our very first date.

Maybe I should tell Mike that story. It might give him ideas to kick start his date with Jennifer.

Or maybe I shouldn't.

I'm having trouble deciding where the line is between us, or if there even is a line anymore.

Lupo's phone started buzzing, so while he pulled it out, I gave myself a quick onceover, making sure there were no telltale signs as to my lunchtime activities.

"I'm going to have to get back," he said reluctantly. "It's my turn with IAB."

"IAB?" I asked. "You know, maybe we should've talked instead of…"

"No way," he interrupted quickly. "I promise. It's just routine."

He pulled his keys from him pocket and then flashed me a mischievous smile as he said, "Oh, and Bernard has news, too. Maybe we should do dinner tonight, the four of us."

"What about Mulder? Is he staying with us again or do we have to take him back?"

He paused for a moment but then his phone buzzed again. Without looking at it, he gave me another quick kiss and then said, "I'm not sure. I'll talk to him and then text you later, okay?"

"You'd better. I love you," I told him as I picked up my flowers from the trunk of the car. It was a miracle that they hadn't fallen off earlier. "And thank you, really."

"For the flowers? Or the…"

"Both," I replied with a grin, and then I walked towards the exit while he got into the car.

I wish we would've had more time so that I could be up to speed with what was going on with him. There was a shooting, and now he has to meet with IAB?

But he'd seemed to be in a good mood, so I had to trust that everything was okay.

I left the parking garage and walked past the courthouse, heading for the office.

"Counselor!"

I turned around to find Detective Benson pulling her car alongside the curb.

I'm not currently working on anything for her so I was hopeful that maybe she'd found something about the first Flowers rape.

I waited while she got out and walked over to me. Her partner was with her, but he stayed in the car, looking somewhat sullen and annoyed.

"I'm sorry," she said immediately. "I tried calling you, but you didn't answer, and since we were in the neighborhood…nice flowers, by the way."

"Thanks," I said as I pulled out my phone and looked at it curiously.

It was on vibrate, like always. One missed call.

It must have been vibrating while I was…slightly distracted.

"So anyway," Benson continued. "I picked up another case, but I wanted to let you know that I went through the evidence again, from the first girl, Megan Higgins."

"And?"

"I think it's a dead end. I mean, the MO is similar, all the way down to victimology, but I can't find anything concrete that ties Flowers to Megan's murder."

"There's no forensic evidence at all?"

"He was very careful, I guess. I mean, the girl…she was a mess, and I don't just mean the gunshot to the head. I mean her clothes were torn and dirty…stained…but there weren't any prints that we could find, and no DNA. If the same crime happened today, hopefully we'd have better results, but ten years ago…"

"Yeah," I said with disappointment. But then it hit me what she said, and I asked, "Stained? With what?"

I expected her to say blood, but she didn't.

"Whiskey, of all things. It was on her back, like maybe he was drinking it and spilled it on her, or maybe he had the bottle in his pocket and it broke…I don't know."

Lauren must've left that detail out of the original police report, because Benson seemed disinterested.

But she most definitely had my attention.

Would it be enough, in addition with the crime similarities, to tie Megan's murder to Lauren's rape?

Considering he's currently serving time for a third similar crime, it was certainly a possibility. I'd have to call down to Pennsylvania and find out if there was any evidence of whiskey at their crime scene.

Of course, there are hundreds of different types of whiskey.

"I might be able to use that," I told Benson thoughtfully. "I don't suppose they were able to narrow it down any more than that."

"Let me check," she said as she walked back to her car. "Hand me that file, El."

Her partner gave her the file and she read it over quickly and then looked at me curiously.

"Surprisingly enough, yes," she told me. "The lab tech concluded that the substance on the victim's shirt was identified as Wild Turkey 101."

TBC...


	67. Chapter 67

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>"<em><strong>You know, I like them tall, too."<strong>_

"_**What?"**_

"_**I like tall men. Although I'm not much for blondes."**_

"_**Are we supposed to be bonding here?"**_ Christina asked cynically.

"_**No. You're supposed to be telling me the name of the man you met at the Maritime," **_Alex replied.

She sat back in the chair and took a sip from her coffee cup as Christina made a face.

"_**Do you have to drink that in front of me? The smell makes me sick."**_

"_**Along with everything else, apparently,"**_ Alex said smartly, and then she removed the lid from her cup and blew on the liquid, presumably to cool it off, but it was obvious that she was just trying to spread the scent.

I love how she's so calm and calculated...some people might call it passive-aggressive, but I call it effective.

And sexy.

"_**What's your problem with me?" **_Christina asked her.

"_**Seriously? My problem is that you seem to think this is all some kind of game. People are dead because of you. I could be dead right now, too. And all the while you're soaking up the hospitality of the United States government because they think you're going to help them put Demachi away. You know what I think?"**_

"_**No, but** **I'm sure you're going to tell me," **_Christina said on a heavy sigh.

"_**I think you never had any intention of testifying."**_

"_**Right. Because he's my baby's father,"**_ she replied snidely. "_**Maybe I think my baby will be better off not knowing a father like him. Did you ever think of that?"**_

"_**I did,"**_ Alex conceded amenably as she once again blew on her coffee. "_**And then I thought that maybe Rama is the father. We know you were sleeping with him, too."**_

"_**He's not."**_

"_**How do you know?"**_

"_**I just know, okay?"**_

"_**No, not okay. You were sleeping with him, right?"**_

Christina sighed again and stared at the table for a minute before responding.

"_**Yes."**_

"_**Then it could be him. Or it could be Demachi. Or…it could be the tall, blonde guy from the Maritime."**_

"_**What difference does it make?"**_ she asked in annoyance.

"_**Normally, it wouldn't make any at all. I honestly couldn't care less which gangster fathered your child, but you brought us into this. You entered the program and you broke the rules and now it's turned into the mess that it is, and I have to wonder about something."**_

Alex was quiet for a minute and as I stared at the two women, Mary came into the observation room.

"How's she doing?"

"She's getting to her," I replied proudly.

"And she hasn't puked yet? Wow, that _is_ progress."

"What's the word with IAB?" I asked on a chuckle.

"They're still dancing in Ross' old office. Everyone's getting pulled in one at a time, and until they finish, we've only got the three of us. I sent Daniels and McInnis back to the USMS office to deal with my boss, who's suddenly clamoring for an update, and everyone else is considered to be _involved_, so they're not allowed to go back to work until officially cleared."

For the first hour after our return to 1PP, Ross and Younger, the IAB guy, were in the office with Sessions and Lucas.

Well, that's not entirely true.

Sessions was only in there for the first few minutes. Just long enough for Ross to dole out the punishment of two weeks without pay.

I'm sure he hated to do it, but it was careless of Sessions to leave his gun laying around.

I mean, it _happens_.

But it was careless.

After Sessions, it was just Lucas, Ross, and Younger.

It wasn't going to look good to the press that a suspect was killed while in police custody, but the bottom line was that it was a good shoot. Goolsby could've killed any number of detectives if he'd started firing the weapon.

It was just a bad situation all the way around.

"And Longley?" I asked, since Mary had been questioning him while Alex got started talking to Christina.

"He claims to be clueless as to why Goolsby would want to kill him," she said in frustration. "And you _know_ that's a lie because I've only been acquainted with Longley for twenty-four hours and I can already think of a dozens reasons to want to kill him."

"A dozen?" I asked with a smirk.

"Okay, so they're all basically the same," she admitted with a shrug. I raised my eyebrow at her and she added, "What? He's an annoying little piss-ant. Isn't that a good enough reason?"

"Works for me."

"_**Are you gonna say it, or what?"**_ I heard Christina ask, her voice higher in pitch and volume.

Alex had just been sitting there staring at her for the past several minutes and it was obviously getting to the girl.

"_**Oh, y****_ou _want to know what I'm wondering**_?" Alex asked calmly.

Christina rolled her eyes dramatically and then gave her an encouraging nod and said, "_**That's why I'm here, right? So that you can ask questions and I can give you answers."**_

"_**Typically, yes. Although you're not very good about giving answers."**_

"_**Maybe you're just not asking the right questions."**_

"_**Maybe not,"**_ Alex agreed. "_**Okay, I've got several. Who's the tall blonde guy?"**_

"_**No one. Next."**_

"_**Why did you purposely break the Witsec rules?"**_

"_**I didn't. Next."**_

"_**Why are you afraid that Rama might be your baby's father?"**_

"_**I'm not. Next."**_

"She's like a different woman all of a sudden," Mary muttered. "No more tears…no vomit…"

"Does she know that Goolsby was killed?"

"No. She knew something happened, but no names were mentioned."

"So it's something else," I mused. "Did she get a phone call?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"Could she have made one that you don't know about?"

"No. No way."

"Then we're not in the ballpark yet."

I pulled out my phone and sent Alex a text.

_**Mention Lupo's theory and let's see how she reacts.**_

"You think Lupo is right about the coup?"

"Think about it…if you're a poodle trying to take over the dog pound, what better way to do it than let the two pit bulls fight to the death?"

"I'm the poodle in this analogy?" she asked with a smirk. "Because I take offense at that just a little bit. Can we at least say I'm a terrier or something?"

I chuckled at her again and then tuned in as Alex asked the question.

"_**Who else is going after the old man's job?"**_

"_**Who else? What do you mean?"**_

"_**You suddenly don't understand English?"**_ Alex fired back. _**"Who else. Wants. Alek Brozi's job?"**_

Christina started fidgeting in her chair and then it looked like she made a conscious effort to sit still and look Alex in the eye.

"_**No one that I know of."**_

"She's lying," I said quietly.

"You think?" Mary mumbled.

"This is it. She's got her."

"_**You know some of the foot soldiers are talking to each other, right? Demachi's men…Rama's men…some of them are working together."**_

"_**The organization doesn't work like that. Camaraderie is encouraged."**_

"_**Really," **_Alex stated disbelievingly_**. "All types of camaraderie? Even sex? So Rama doesn't have a problem with the fact that you slept with Demachi? And vice versa? And what about this third guy?"**_

"_**You're obsessed with this other guy," **_she said dismissively_.__** "He's no one."**_

"_**Yesterday, you said you were in love with him."**_

"_**I lied."**_

"_**There's a surprise," **_Alex said smartly_.__** "Although you know what? I think you're lying now. I think you are in love with him. And I think he's the third man in the race."**_

"_**In what race?"**_

"_**The race to take over for Brozi. I think the whole idea is for Demachi and Rama to take each other out, leaving the path clear for this other guy to take over, right? You let it slip about your pregnancy…you knew both men would assume paternity. You knew they'd come looking for you, and in the process the police would be after them, the marshal service, not to mention the fact that they'd stumble across each other…you knew all of that when you decided to go to the US Attorney."**_

"_**No, I didn't."**_

"_**Then why only testify against Demachi?"**_

"_**I…what?"**_

"_**You're only slated to testify against Demachi, but you had a relationship with Rama, too. Surely you know something of probative value that would help put him away. Unless you're just a complete moron who's clueless to her surroundings."**_

"_**I'm not a moron," **_Christina ground out in anger._** "And you don't know what you're talking about."**_

"_**I think I'm getting close. I think I'm right about this third man..."**_

"_**There's no third man in the running," **_Christina shouted, getting up from her chair in a move that was quicker and more graceful than anything I've seen her do to date. _**"And you calling me a moron is ridiculous because you're the one still chasing your tail. You've been working this case for a week and yet you still don't have a clue. You want to know how I know Rama's not the father? Have you ever heard of a freaking IUD? I mean, come on. It's 2011. You think I can't handle birth control?"**_

"_**I think you're pregnant," **_Alex pointed out nonchalantly, not letting Christina's outburst outwardly affect her._** "So…maybe you're not so schooled on birth control after all."**_

"_**I'm pregnant because I want to be."**_

"_**By Demachi."**_

"_**Are you really that stupid?" **_Christina yelled._** "No, not by Demachi, either! Shit, I just wanted him to **_**think**_** that so he wouldn't try to kill me!"**_

"**_Okay, so it's this third mystery man. The one you're in love with. But you have to know that IUDs aren't perfect. That baby _could _be Rama's. Or Demachi's. You were sleeping with all three men at the same time, so…"_**

"_**It doesn't matter**_," Christina said in a huff, finally flopping back into the chair. _**"You know what? I'm done with you. I don't have to talk to you."**_

"_**Actually, you do."**_

"_**I want to talk to Bailey. Now."**_

The US Attorney.

If she was asking for him, then we were _very_ close.

"It'll take me all day to get Bailey down here," Mary groused. "It might not even be until tomorrow."

"Fine. Put her in solitary. She can stay here until she's ready to talk."

"That's not exactly good PR for Witsec. We keep our witnesses in solitary confinement?"

"She might have _been_ your witness, but I'm thinking that before too long, she's going to be a defendant. She still knows more than she's saying, and she's hampering a federal investigation."

"She's got immunity. That was part of her deal."

"For what she did before. Not for what she's done since entering the program, right?"

"That's true," she mused.

"Well?" Alex asked as she came into the room.

"Nice job pissing her off," Mary said.

"I've been watching how you work," Alex replied with a smirk. "What do you think?"

"I think Lupo was right. It's not just that there's a third person, but also that the person is pitting Demachi and Rama against each other."

"Uh huh," Alex agreed with a nod. "And did you notice how mad she got when I talked about the third man?"

"She had a vein ready to pop in her forehead," Mary agreed. "So that's why you think it's true?"

"No," Alex said, catching my eye and silently asking if I agree with her.

And I do.

Because I know exactly where she's going, and I love that it's the same place as me.

"No, so…" Mary said leadingly. "Do you want to tell me, or are we going to play charades? Because I'm going to need more than the two of you staring at each other if I'm supposed to guess."

"It was the specific word that made her mad," I explained. "Not _third_, but _man_."

"She thinks it's sexist of you to assume it's a man?"

"She took offense at me calling _her_ a man," Alex corrected.

"Her. Christina? You're telling me that she's the dark horse going after Brozi's job?"

Alex nodded at me, still not taking her gaze from mine as we tag-teamed our theory.

"That's why she wanted into Witsec. She wanted to create the mayhem while she was still safe from it."

"At first, only Rama went looking for her, so she had Derek drop the hint about her carrying Demachi's child."

"It worked. He joined in the search, causing them to bump heads with Rama and with us, and now they're at least four men down, maybe more."

"Not to mention they're getting too much attention from the police and Brozi has to hate that."

"So after they've finished decimating each other, Christina's going to swoop in and save the day."

"Are you sure?" Mary asked. "Because she seems awfully fragile to be able to pull off a stunt like that."

"That's one reason why it's worked up until now," I stated.

"Uh huh," Alex agreed. "No one suspected her of having the balls to take on Demachi and Rama. But you know who's going to be impressed by it, don't you?"

"Brozi," Mary said with a nod. "Shit. Okay, I need to get Bailey down here."

Alex and I left the observation room and went back into the squad room. I could see Bernard in Ross' office, but none of the others were anywhere to be found, except Jennifer, who was sitting at Alex's desk.

She was on the phone, but she hopped up when she saw us approaching.

"Sorry," she mouthed, flashing us an apologetic smile before ending her phone call. "Hey, I need to run, okay? But I'll come by as soon as I'm done."

She tucked away her phone and then said, "How'd it go?"

We gave her the quick synopsis of our theory, finishing up as Mary came out of the observation room, having ended her call to Bailey.

"Tomorrow morning," she stated. "Apparently he can't be bothered today."

"Can't be bothered? Isn't this going to be the case that makes his career?" Alex questioned.

"Exactly. Which is why he isn't in any hurry. He doesn't believe me. And if we're right, it might very well _blow_ his case," Mary said in annoyance, and then she looked at Jennifer and asked, "Where is everyone?"

"Well, Bernard's in the hot seat. Lucas is headed over to the DA's office to give an affidavit as to the events since he's heading back to Toronto in the morning. Daniels and McInnis are back from the office, but when they saw we were still dealing with IAB, they went to lunch. Lupo hasn't had a turn yet, but Ross told him he could go and they're going to call him back when it's his turn. And on a side note, I've got to say that Lupo's also apparently a closet romantic because he bought Connie flowers for their one-week anniversary."

"And you know that…_how_?" Mary asked her in amusement.

"Thank you, Mary, for throwing me under the bus," Jennifer responded wryly.

"Hey, you're the one who spouted off information about something you shouldn't have known about."

"What am I missing?" I asked.

"She's dating Cutter," Mary said with a grin.

"I'm not _dating_ him. I have _a_ date with him," she said petulantly as she cast a nervous glance at me and Alex. "There's a difference."

"You don't have to deny it on my account," I said easily.

"Just don't screw him over," Alex added.

Mary smiled and said, "Don't worry. I already warned her about that."

"It's nothing personal," Alex explained. "But he's obviously been through a lot recently."

"I _know_," Jennifer replied firmly. "Which is why I wasn't going to go out with him at all, but he's very…persuasive."

"Uh huh," Mary teased. "And what was that you almost said this morning about your sex life?"

"I didn't say I _have_ one," she argued.

I was about ready to excuse myself from the conversation, considering the direction it was headed, but Mike and Carolyn came into the squad room at the same time that Bernard came out of the office, and so the talk about Jennifer's potential sex life was tabled as everyone seemed to start talking at once.

"Text Lupo and get him back here," Ross called out to Bernard.

"Yeah, he's going to love that," Bernard mumbled as he checked his watch. "I think I'll give him a few more minutes."

"Why'd it take so long?" Mary asked him.

"Why is Ross in his old office?" Mike asked. "And who's that with him? Younger? What's IAB doing here?"

"There was a shooting a few hours ago," Jennifer said.

"And I got interrogated on why I didn't deem the suspect as dangerous when Lucas did," Bernard stated in irritation. "So he's in trouble because he reacted quicker than the rest of us, but you know…if he hadn't done what he did…"

"I know," Jennifer agreed. "And that's what I told him when I was in there. They sent Lucas to give his official statement. I think he's going to be fine."

"Good to know," Bernard said.

"So we're out of the office for a few hours and there's gunfire?" Carolyn asked.

"A few hours? I haven't seen you here in days," Mary countered. "What's new? Puccio's downstairs, right?"

"Yeah, but he's secondary."

"To what?"

"We met with O'Connor this morning."

I looked Mike over, getting a feel for his overall well-being.

He's definitely still sick.

But other than that, he looks okay.

He's taking the news about O'Grady well, and I couldn't help but wonder what details O'Connor had offered up this morning.

But we couldn't get into that right now.

That would be a discussion for later, when it was just the four of us.

"And?" Bernard asked.

"I've been officially declared a persona non grata in the Albanian community. Demachi's offering twenty-five large to whoever kills me," Mike said. Then he smirked and added, "You know, that kind of hurts. Surely I'm worth more than that."

Alex nudged him with her shoulder and asked, "What's O'Connor doing about it?"

"He's putting out a new word. He's got his boys telling everyone that _he_ killed Montoya."

"This is getting ridiculous," Alex said in annoyance. "_I_ killed him. If they want to come after someone…"

"Too late," Mike interrupted gently.

"And you know they know better," Carolyn reminded her. "The fact that he's saying it just means that hurting Mike would be considered as a personal insult to O'Connor."

Mike nodded and looked around at all of us and said, "So you know that turf war we've all been trying to avoid? Well, I think it's on."

TBC...


	68. Chapter 68

**Ross POV**

* * *

><p>This day…<p>

I wanted to start it over.

Of course, I'd wanted to start yesterday over, too.

Although yesterday had been due to my own insecurities and stupidity.

Today was just messed up.

But at least Liz and I were okay.

"_I figured I'd better warn you_," she said when she called me earlier, and my stomach clenched in anticipation of what she might say.

"_About what?"_

_"Mike's on his way over here. He needs another shot."_

Great.

It couldn't be anyone with a saggy ass, could it?

Not that I've ever checked out his butt or anything, but it's a pretty safe bet that his isn't saggy.

_"Okay,"_ I said agreeably.

_"Are you sure? I can do it blindfolded, if you want,"_ she offered in that wonderfully sarcastic way of hers.

"_No, it's fine,"_ I assured her, and I realized as I said the words that it _is_ fine.

I trust her.

And like she reminded me so bluntly last night…she saw his ass last fall.

In full color.

And not just his ass but his…okay, I have to draw the line somewhere, and that's going to have to be where it is.

But my point is, if comparisons were going to be made, then she's probably already done it.

And she's still with me.

So I have to let it go.

"_Really? Because Carolyn needs one, too. I thought we might have a threesome."_

"_Maybe I need to come, too. We'll just have a full-blown orgy in your office."_

She erupted into laughter and I found myself chuckling, too.

"_Danny, there are so many jokes I can make about your statement, I don't even know where to start."_

"_Anywhere,_" I offered, loving the sound of her laughter. _"I've got time."_

So we laughed some more while she pointed out the double entendres in my remark, and of course, she had to add her own blend of humor to it, and by the time I hung up with her, I was thinking that the day was going to be a pretty good one.

Of course, it was still early.

I worked in my office for a while and then I went downstairs to find Jeremy because it occurred to me that due to my troubles with Liz last night, I never took the time to lay down the rules about his involvement in detective work.

It needed to be nonexistent.

Getting coffee was one thing, but going on look-sees was another, and I didn't want him doing that.

Not because I don't think he can handle it, but because _I'm_ not ready to handle it.

I got off the elevator and after a quick visual scan of the squad room, I went into the break room, assuming that's where I'd find my son.

But it was empty, and as I headed for the door, intent on finding out from Hayes and Eames where Jeremy might be, along with strongly suggesting to both of them that they not let him talk them into allowing him to tag along, that's when I heard the shouts followed by a single gunshot.

I quickly pulled my weapon and ran into the squad room, only to find that the threat had already been disabled, shot in the chest by…someone. I didn't know him, but Bernard and Lupo clearly did, as well as Marshall Dunn.

The whole thing was a fiasco, and I had no doubt that the commissioner was going to love it.

When was the last time an ME got called to Major Case?

Not on my watch, that's for sure.

_Until now._

And it wasn't hard to picture how red the commissioner's face was going to get when he heard about this one, so as annoying as I might find hoops, I still jumped through them all.

I called IAB and an ME – _not_ Liz, so there wouldn't be any hint of impropriety - and then I separated the involved parties. I also got a CSU team to come up and take pictures and just as the dust was starting to settle, Mary showed up, practically dragging a woman by the elbow while McInnis and Daniels brought up the rear.

"_What the hell happened in here_?" she asked brusquely as together we walked towards the conference room.

_"You let a Mountie in on your investigation?"_ I countered.

_"Temporarily. He brought a suspect back from Canada. He and Bernard go way back. Why?"_

"_Well, he killed one of your suspects."_

_"What? Why?"_

I filled her in briefly while her marshals parked the other woman in an interrogation room.

_"I need all of my people cleared,"_ Mary said firmly when I finished. "_I don't have time for this mess."_

"_You don't? Because I've got all day to deal with shootings in my squad room,"_ I replied smartly.

And I know I was being kind of a jerk, but my heart was still pounding like a jackhammer.

Where the hell is Jeremy?

And what might've happened if he'd been in the room?

"_Chief,"_ Mary said, lowering her tone and using my title, which caught me completely off guard and made me realize even _more_ that I was being a jerk. _"I'm sorry, but this case…"_

_"I know,"_ I said with understanding. "_I'll get your people back to you as quickly as possible."_

Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out to check a message and then after reading it, she cursed an impressive blue streak.

"_The boss?"_ I asked knowingly.

_"What gave it away?"_ she grumbled. Then she sighed and ran her hand through her hair before saying, "_He wants an update. Like now."_

_"Delegate,"_ I suggested. "_It doesn't have to be you."_

_"Not a bad idea," _she agreed.

"_I'm going to grab Goolsby's file,"_ I told her as I stepped into the conference room. "_I'm sure IAB's going to want to know who he is."_

She nodded as I moved over to the table, and then I heard her call out.

_"Bobby! Alex!"_

_"Good, they're back,"_ I said as I grabbed the file and stepped back into the corridor. "_You can use them until I clear the others."_

_"What's going on?"_ Alex asked as they approached.

_"Oh, not much,"_ Mary answered. "_Unless you count the one dead Albanian who was shot by a Mountie after a brawl broke out during the transport of the suspects back to lock up."_

_"There was a shooting in here? Everyone else is okay?"_

_"Sessions is facing suspension,"_ I told them. "_But other than that, yes."_

Mary proceeded to fill in the blanks, or at least, as much as she and I knew. I still didn't have a clue as to what had started the fight in the first place.

I looked around the room again, half-expecting Jeremy to appear at any moment, but he still wasn't around.

Eames and Hayes were standing near the Gorens' desks, and I could tell that Hayes was on the phone.

Was she looking for Jeremy, too? Had he gone out somewhere on his own?

"_Where's Jeremy?"_ Alex asked me, as though she could read my mind. And hell, knowing her, she probably could.

"_I don't know,"_ I replied. "_I was coming in to talk to him when I heard the shot, and I haven't gotten around to asking Hayes or Eames yet. But I haven't seen him."_

"_No, don't do that!_" Hayes said, her voice easily heard from across the room, and then to my surprise, she shoved her phone in her pocket and made a beeline for the elevator, with Eames right behind her.

_"Detectives!"_ I yelled, but they didn't stop.

For a split second, I debated running after them because they're hiding something, but then I heard Bobby say, "_I'm sure they didn't hear you."_

Which was code for _let them handle it_.

I took a moment to breathe while the others continued to talk, discussing the woman in the interrogation room, but I tuned them out.

Had they lost my son?

Had they sent him out on a tip?

No.

Liz was right when she said she trusted Hayes not to put Jeremy in danger.

And Eames, too. They're good detectives. Excellent, in fact, which is exactly why I'm going to offer them the spot in Major Case.

Just as soon as I make the call to Anita.

_"Chief Ross?"_ a man called out.

Detective Younger with IAB.

After promising Mary that I'd do my best to buy her fifteen minutes or so in order to allow her to get the details on the interrogations so that she wouldn't be working the case on old information, I went into my office with Younger.

The interviews took hours. Time that I could've spent doing actual work rather than rehashing the same twenty-second span over and over again.

I mean really – who's going to mourn for the guy? He's the one who picked up a weapon in a goddamn police station. What did he think was going to happen?

But we still had to go through the motions, and in all of that time, there were no surprises.

Sessions.

Two-week suspension.

I might've done more if he hadn't looked like he was punishing himself more than I could ever do.

Lucas Tremblay, the Mountie.

"_You think it's a good idea to fire your weapon inside of a squad room?"_ Younger had asked him.

"_No, but I also don't think it'd be a good idea to let one misguided weenie take out the best detectives in New York, eh?"_

"_Maybe he was only going to shoot the other suspect."_

"_Maybe,"_ Lucas agreed. "_Maybe not. It's a nine-round clip, right?"_

I certainly wasn't going to argue with him. And not that I don't think any one of my detectives could have accomplished the same thing, because I do. But honestly, I don't care _how_ it got done, only that it _got_ done.

It was nearly one o'clock when I finished with Bernard, and Lupo was the only one left to interview. I couldn't imagine that he'd have anything new to add, but Younger was insistent upon being thorough and I couldn't argue with him. Not when my next stop was going to have to be the commissioner's office.

See what I mean about it being a do-over kind of day?

How much differently might it have gone if Sessions had just kept his damn gun in his holster? Or under lock and key?

"Text Lupo and get him back here," I called out to Bernard after he left my office.

I saw that the Logans had arrived and I forced myself not to think about their respective asses. Actually, I was going to go out and talk to them to see how they were feeling, but that's when Liz called.

"I need to take this," I told Younger, mostly because I just needed a break from him. If Lupo had left the building for lunch, it would take him a while to get back, so there was no sense in the two of us just sitting in here staring at each other while we waited.

"Sure, Chief," he said agreeably. "I'll go get some coffee."

Coffee.

That thought had me scanning the room again.

Still no Jeremy?

Or Hayes or Eames…

"You never called about lunch. I guess you're still caught up with that shooting, huh?" Liz asked when I answered the phone.

I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes as I said, "Good news travels fast."

"Well, you did call for an ME," she replied. "Are you okay?"

"I've wasted most of my day giving the third degree to detectives who I know damn well didn't do anything wrong."

"Then why are you doing it?"

"Because the commissioner will have my ass if I don't cross every T."

"That's a good reason. Are you almost done?"

"Lupo's on his way back. He's last. Did Jenkins finish the autopsy yet?"

"Gunshot wound to the chest. Were you expecting something different?"

"No," I said on a sigh. "Oh, have you talked to Jeremy?"

"Not lately. I texted him earlier and he said he was on a break. He was going to meet Mulder for coffee."

"Mulder? Why would he do that?"

"Because he's a nice kid, just like Jeremy," she replied practically. "They both socialize with a bunch of old fogies like us, and it's probably nice for them to talk to each other one-on-one from time to time."

I hadn't thought about it like that.

"True," I conceded. "But I heard Hayes talking to him earlier and she sounded upset with him."

"With Jeremy?"

"Yeah. Well…maybe."

Did I know for a fact that she was talking to Jeremy?

No.

I'd just assumed it.

"Danny, what do you think is going on? That Jeremy and Mulder have teamed up to single-handedly track down the blackmailers?" she asked in amusement.

"I have no idea," I admitted. "I just don't like when he doesn't answer his phone."

"He was away at school for a year. He's certainly not used to reporting in every hour."

"I know," I replied, because she was right.

Just because he wasn't in the squad room, I'd envisioned him out doing dangerous police work when he was probably sitting in a coffee shop with Mulder.

And don't I want him to have friends here now that he's back in New York?

Mulder's a little odd, but they're probably good for each other.

"Oh, did you call Cecilia?" I asked, suddenly remembering that she'd planned to make the call this morning.

"I didn't," she answered. "I've been thinking about that. You know, she hasn't actually tried to make contact. The calls all came from Washington Heights."

"So if we're assuming that Eames and Hayes are right about the idea that Cecilia isn't involved in the blackmail…"

"Then maybe she hasn't made up her mind yet. Just because she looked up the record doesn't mean she's ready to make a move."

"Interesting," I mused. "What are you thinking?"

"That I should wait until they catch the blackmailers. Either she'll be part of it, and then maybe I won't feel so bad about telling her the truth about her mother…or she's not, and then…I don't know."

We talked about that for a few more minutes and then I saw Younger heading towards the office, and at the same time, Lupo got back to the squad room.

"I'd better go, Liz. I'm sorry I couldn't do lunch, but how about dinner?"

"It's Friday night. I'm guessing unless something major happens, there's going to be a gathering at Steve-O's."

"I like the sound of that. I feel like I need to buy a few drinks after today anyway. I hate watching my detectives get raked over the coals like this."

"Good, then it's a date. I'll text you later."

I hung up with her as Younger entered the room, and Lupo wasn't far behind.

"I hope you didn't have to wait too long," he said, sounding slightly self-conscious.

And yet he looked happy and relaxed and…was that lipstick on the side of his neck?

He'd met Connie for lunch.

It made me slightly jealous and I wished that I could've met Liz. Maybe then I'd be the one coming in with lipstick smudged on my skin. Although Liz doesn't usually wear any, but still…the idea of a midday break from the reality that is our lives…it's very appealing.

Maybe I'll have to see if Liz can take a _late_ lunch today.

I ducked my head to hide a smile as Younger instructed him to sit down so that we could begin the interview.

It was three-thirty before I got back to my office.

I should've known my late-lunch theory would never work.

By the time I finished with Lupo and the commissioner, Liz was out on a run, so I decided my thoughts about an impromptu tryst would have to be put on hold.

I still had to call Anita Van Buren anyway, and maybe doing it on a Friday afternoon would be a good idea. She could stew about it over the weekend and maybe have time to cool off, because I can't imagine she'll be too pleased about losing two more detectives.

Although in my defense, I didn't actually _take_ Lupo and Bernard.

Lupo had transferred out anyway, choosing a gig with Counterterrorism, and Bernard had been recommended for MCS by the Loo herself, so she can't be bitter about that, can she?

And why the hell am I so worried about calling her anyway?

She works for me.

_And I like keeping my people happy, especially the good ones_, I reminded myself.

She's definitely a good one.

Instead of calling right away, I took a moment to pull her personnel file.

Because why is she still a lieutenant?

I flipped through her file and then placed the call.

"Van Buren."

"Anita, it's Danny," I said, using my first name in an effort to encourage her to do the same.

"Chief," she said in surprise. "What can I do for you today?"

"I've got a proposal for you."

"Okay," she answered cautiously.

"I want two of your detectives transferred into Major Case."

"Eames and Hayes," she stated knowingly. "You've had them more than I have anyway, so I guess it's no surprise. Who are you planning to send to my house?"

"You can have your pick."

"That's your proposal? You take two of my rookies and I can have whoever I want?"

"Not exactly. Actually, I think it's long past time for you to pin on your captain's bars."

I was met with silence for a moment, and then I got what I was looking for.

"No."

"No?"

"I mean, you're the chief so if you want to transfer Eames and Hayes then I can't stop you, but no, I don't want the promotion."

"Why not?"

"Can I speak freely?" she asked.

As if I expected anything else from her.

"Of course."

"Sir, I passed that captain's exam five years ago, and I'm still a lieutenant, so I figure there must be some other reason the brass has for holding me back. I don't know what that reason might be, but I'm willing to wait until I've earned the position. I'm not going to take it as a means of pacification because you want to steal two of my people."

I knew I wasn't wrong about her.

"And that right there is one of the reasons why you deserve it. You want to know why you haven't gotten it up until now? Because of the budget. There's no room at the 2-7 for the additional salary. So when I said I wanted to offer you a proposal, I only mean in that you'll be getting what you deserve because I've got four slots available in Major Case, but if you give me Eames and Hayes, that's all I need, and I can shift the remaining budgetary allotment to the 2-7."

She was quiet again, and then she asked, "So you're saying you want to make me a captain?"

"I'm saying it should've been done a long time ago."

We talked a little while longer, and I hung up with her feeling a little better about my day.

Maybe it hadn't been so bad after all.

The incident in Major Case could've been worse.

And Younger could've been a total dick instead of merely slightly fastidious.

And the commissioner could've reamed my ass about it, but he didn't.

Or not too horribly anyway.

And now I'd been able to offer Van Buren the promotion she deserved, I was transferring in two more good detectives to the department, _and_ it was almost quitting time, when I'd be meeting up with Liz and an undoubtedly large group of friends.

The only loose end was Jeremy…

I'd forced myself to quit worrying about him throughout the afternoon, but now I had to wonder what he was up to. Because I'd been in the squad room for hours and never saw him, so he was out on more than just a coffee break.

As I thought about him, my phone rang.

"Ross," I answered.

"Chief, it's Detective Hayes."

She sounded slightly hesitant, as though she was reluctant to talk to me, and I was instantly on alert.

"What is it?" I asked, bracing myself for her response. And then the father in me couldn't help but add, "Is Jeremy with you?"

"That's partly why I'm calling."

"So he is?"

"Yes, sir. And…well, I've got good news and bad news."

TBC...


	69. Chapter 69

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

><p>When I was in the Marine Corps, they injected me with a live virus.<p>

Something to make me sick.

Sounds crazy, right?

Maybe.

But the purpose was to see how I could handle myself.

How I reacted to the virus…how I dealt with my day to day responsibilities despite being under the weather…and most of all, how I responded to a crisis while my body was performing at less than peak capacity.

It was a piece of cake.

Nothing but mind over matter.

It wasn't nearly as hard as going for days without sleep, or being awakened at three a.m. for the sole purpose of PT-ing in the sand pit, or embarking upon a 40-mile hike with a pack that was nearly half my body weight.

Suffice it to say, I successfully overcame all of those challenges.

In fact, I thrived on them.

I had to remind myself of that this morning when I didn't want to get out of the bed.

That, and the fact that Mike needs me right now.

Those two truths were getting me through my day.

Well, and the shot that Liz had given me earlier.

That was definitely helping, because for some reason, dealing with a sickness at age forty-two wasn't quite the same as handling it at twenty, and by four-thirty I was running on fumes.

But the day wasn't a bad one.

In fact, it was fairly productive, and somewhat emotionally uplifting.

We left Liz's autopsy suite this morning with sore butts, packets of additional medication, and the promise that if we felt better, we'd all meet for drinks tonight.

I liked the sound of that, since it felt like it had been forever since Liz and I talked, but the idea of that comfortable hotel bed was pretty appealing, too.

I'd have to play it by ear.

Once we were in the hallway, Mike pulled me into a hug.

"_I have to find out everything about him_," he said.

"_I know. I'll help you. And Johnny may already know some things…"_

"_This is…wow. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel."_

"_There's no right or wrong when it comes to feelings."_

He let go of me, but still stood in front of me, holding my gaze, and I noticed that he had tears in his eyes.

"_I feel happy_," he said simply. Then he added, "_And that makes me feel guilty."_

_"You feel guilty that you're happy that John Logan isn't your real father?"_

He shrugged and dropped his gaze downward momentarily, and I was once again reminded of that picture I'd seen of him as a boy.

I wish I had more pictures of him from back then.

And then I realized that I was denying him by not sharing pictures of me from childhood. Someday soon, I was going to have to tackle that storage shed and go through everything.

I took hold of his hand and waited until he brought his eyes back to mine.

_"He left you_," I reminded him. "_With __**her,**__ knowing how she treated you."_

_"I know. But he tried, right?"_

_"Yes, he did. But when push came to shove, he quit. Don't let him deprive you of this moment right here. You just learned the identity of your father, and he's a good man. Be happy. And be guilt-free."_

He hugged me one more time and then we left to meet O'Connor.

I drove so that he could call Bobby, which is something I knew he wanted to do, but he ended up talking to Alex.

She might not be able to offer the same perspective as Bobby, but I knew she'd be supportive.

The two of them are like brother and sister, and I found myself chuckling at Mike's end of the conversation.

"_That woman is **not** right_," he said dramatically after he hung up the phone.

He had a huge smile on his face, and I was going to have to remember to thank her for knowing exactly what he needed to hear during that conversation.

"_But you love her,"_ I stated as I found a parking spot.

"_Yes, I do_," he agreed. I cut off the engine and he reached over the console, sliding his hand across my thigh as he said, "_And you. I love you, too. So much."_

He leaned over to kiss me, but I turned my head and said, "_You don't want to get my germs."_

"_I already gave you mine."_

"_So maybe I don't want to give them back," _I replied, working hard to keep the smile from my lips.

"_I'm not getting out of this car until you kiss me,"_ he said petulantly, and then to punctuate his statement, he locked the door.

I didn't point out that it would still open from the inside. He seemed to be having too much fun making a stand.

"_You're going to be late for your meeting with O'Connor."_

"_So I'll be late."_

"_I'm sure he'll love that. You'll be the first man to keep the Irish mob boss waiting, and for what…a measly little kiss?"_

"_There's nothing measly about the way you kiss_," he countered, shifting in the seat until he was encroaching on my half of the car. "_And if you think I won't sit here all day until you give it up, then you don't know me very well."_

"_Oh, I know you pretty well."_

"_You think?"_ he asked, his voice sounding wonderfully low and husky. He eased even closer, and his hand clenched my thigh more tightly.

"_I know_," I declared.

Because I'd known as soon as our bantering began that I was going to kiss him, but this way we were letting it build a little…and we were taking a moment to make sure our connection was intact before going into the meeting.

I turned towards him and kissed him, slowly and with meaning. It was surely more than what he'd intended to do initially, but it was what we both needed.

Just a quiet oasis for a minute, with only the two of us.

And I was glad for it, since twenty minutes later we were in a booth sitting across from Shane O'Connor, who was telling us that he wanted to put a tail on us.

"_We're the cops,"_ I argued. "_We do the tailing."_

"_Not this time, my dear," _he countered. _"The boys who'll be coming for you…they're not the common sort, to be sure."_

"_Meaning what?"_

"_Demachi's calling in some brothers from Detroit."_

"_For me?"_

"_For you…for the woman he's after…the word is that she's carrying his son."_

"_That's debatable. But you know, this information is highly classified, and…"_

"_Mike, my boy…I'm not here to ask you for information. I'm here to give it to you. I've got a couple of church mice who're gonna be watching you just to make sure no one else is. And I've been spreading the word that 'tis me who shot their boy."_

"_That's crazy. They saw Mike in the alley. Surely people know you were still in Boston._"

"_My dear, we work in our own ways, to be sure_," he said mysteriously, but then I got it.

By accepting responsibility he was saying that he wouldn't tolerate retaliation.

"_Can I ask why you feel so strongly about doing this? I mean, it has to be more than loyalty to your brother's friend,_" I asked him, my curiosity getting the better of me.

And it's not that I mind his interest in Mike.

In fact, I think it's kind of neat that he's got someone watching out for him like that, almost like a father.

And so what if he's a mobster?

He still seems to have morals, so who am I to judge his chosen profession?

But I'm just...curious to know his motive.

"_I told you he saved my life,"_ he reminded me.

I nodded encouragingly, hoping he would tell the story because even though he'd talked about O'Grady when we were in Boston, it was mostly window-dressing type stuff.

Not the nitty-gritty.

Not the emotional stuff or his reasons for feeling so indebted to Casey, other than the generality.

"_You want to hear the story, is that it, my dear?"_ O'Connor asked me, smiling at me as he picked up his coffee cup.

I glanced at Mike for confirmation, since he'd been fairly quiet the past few minutes. He met my gaze and took hold of my hand beneath the table before looking across the table at O'Connor.

"_Wednesday night, you offered up the Cliff notes on Casey's life,"_ Mike began. "_But I want to know who he was. So tell us how he saved your life. And tell us anything else that'll make me feel like I know him."_

So he did.

"_His partner had a hard-on for me, something about him thinking I'd stolen his woman,"_ he said. Then he winked at me and added, "_And I did. But we were kids, mind you. Barely out of our teens and let me tell you…Claire doesn't take kindly to being thought of as a possession. And she certainly had no use for the likes of Aiden Flannery after she set her eyes upon me."_

"_Not that you're cocky about it or anything,"_ I teased, enjoying the fact that his face lit up as he spoke of his wife.

Who would ever think about a man like him being a sucker for the love of his woman?

"_Of course not, my dear,_" he replied with a grin. "_Flannery didn't care much for me, and when he became partners with Casey, our paths were crossing on a regular basis. Flannery got it in his head that he was going to put me away."_

"_For what?"_

"_Anything. Everything. It didn't matter what, but he wanted me in jail, probably so that he'd be free to go after my Claire."_

"_So what happened?"_

"_He planted a gun on me, that's what. Set me up for murder. But Casey, he knew better. He and Ian taught me to be smarter than that. I might skate along the edge of the law, but I'm no killer."_

"_He stood up to his partner for you?" _I asked, assuming that's what he meant by O'Grady saving his life.

He'd kept him from being framed for murder.

"_Aye, and he did more than that, to be sure. The two of them came to my place, Flannery to arrest me and Casey to straighten things out. Only once they arrived, the two of them started arguing over it, and it came to blows. I moved closer to put an end to it, and Flannery pulled his gun on me, saying some such mess about how I'd just given him good reason to pull the trigger. I didn't think he'd be so bold as to shoot me in cold blood, but he aimed right at my chest and then he fired."_

I could only guess where his story was going. Casey must have given him CPR and kept him alive until the ambulance arrived, and then maybe he'd spoken out against his partner.

But I was wrong.

"_Casey stepped between us at the last second and took a bullet right in the shoulder, one that most likely would've killed me. And when Flannery started yelling at me, blaming me for the whole bloody incident, Casey pulled his own weapon. He gave his partner two choices. He could put his gun away and admit to what he'd done, or he was going to shoot him dead right then and there. I don't think he would've killed the man because that wasn't Casey's style, but he had eyes of steel when he wanted to…just like yours, my boy. He was a man who commanded respect and it was justified, to be sure."_

"_So Flannery put his gun away?"_

"_Aye, and he was kicked off the force the next day. But 'tis a brave man who'll stand against a brother, and I'm sure you'll be understanding about the bond between partners."_

He talked for another hour or so, recounting tales of Casey O'Grady. Some of them seemed like maybe they were a little farfetched and yet they were told with such love and admiration that it was impossible not to _want_ to believe.

"_And he never married_?" Mike asked.

"_He did once, yes. To the wrong woman, to be sure. She was a lovely lass, but had the tongue of a shrew."_

"_How long did it last?"_

"_Only a few years. It wasn't long after the incident with Flannery that the two of them split. Casey never talked about the final straw, but it was he who called it quits."_

I looked at Mike, wondering if he was thinking the same thing as me, and he must have been because his next question was, "_Is she still alive?"_

"_Last I heard, she moved down to the Gulf Coast. Pensacola, I think. She married again after Casey, and he left her a widow a few years back. It's after that that she went away."_

"_I don't suppose you remember her name."_

"_Aye, you're thinking of looking her up, are you? I'm not sure she'll be knowing anything about old Casey, but I can't blame you for taking a chance._ '_Tis Cathleen, but her last name is escaping me. I bet your man Johnny has already found it. You've still got him up in Boston, isn't that right?"_

"_Yes,_" Mike agreed.

"_See, my boy? I've got eyes everywhere_," he stated.

We left him shortly thereafter, and there wasn't any further discussion on the tail he wanted to put on us.

We were quiet as we walked over to 1PP and rode the elevator up to the eleventh floor, but I could tell that Mike was impressed with everything he'd heard. So was I.

"_I'm thinking that as soon as we wrap up this case, maybe we take a little trip_," he said under his breath as we got off the elevator and headed for the squad room.

"_Like to the Gulf Coast?"_ I asked.

"_Sweetheart, you read my mind."_

"_Yeah, but that was too easy. Give me something a little harder."_

He flashed me a grin, ready to pounce on my choice of wording, but then we both caught on to the fact that things were a little hinky in the squad room.

For starters, there was a huddle formed around Alex and Bobby's desks, and Bernard was coming out of Ross' old office, which currently contained Ross and another man.

"_Why is Ross in his old office?_" Mike asked, his questions mirroring my thoughts. "_And who's that with him? Younger? What's IAB doing here?"_

_"There was a shooting a few hours ago,_" Jennifer answered.

The others filled us in briefly on what had happened, and then Mary mentioned Puccio.

In all of the excitement, I'd almost forgotten about him.

Although, we were pretty much done with him. The evidence CSU had found was going to put him away, whether or not he admitted to anything.

We just had to talk to him to see what he had to say for himself, and then we were going to kick it to the DA, so he's not the most important thing on our agenda at the moment.

_"Yeah, but he's secondary,"_ Mike said to Mary, once again putting my thoughts into words.

_"To what?"_

_"We met with O'Connor this morning."_

We told them about O'Connor, and how he was taking responsibility for the murder.

_"This is getting ridiculous,"_ Alex said in annoyance.

Alex looked completely frustrated that other people were in the hot seat because of her actions, but what she didn't understand was that it was actually helping Mike to take responsibility…to keep the attention off of her.

It assuaged his guilt that stemmed from waiting outside of the building while she and Bobby were being attacked.

Of course, I have some of that guilt, too.

Even though my words to Mike were true, that there was no way we could've known and so we weren't at fault, I can't help but _feel_ it.

And maybe it's hypocritical of me to tell Mike he shouldn't feel it when I still do, but I can't help it.

I want to protect him.

But that's why I understand his reasoning behind being practically grateful that Demachi's people misread the situation and put the blame on him.

Of course, now O'Connor is taking on that accountability in an effort to repay Casey for what he did for him all those years ago.

It's about honor and loyalty and mutual respect, and it's comforting to know that people in Mike's father's life have it, just like we do.

It made me wish even more that Casey was still alive. I bet he and Mike would've really hit it off.

"_I killed him,"_ Alex continued. "_If they want to come after someone…"_

_"Too late," _Mike interrupted gently.

"A_nd you know they know better_," Carolyn reminded her. _"The fact that he's saying it just means that hurting Mike would be considered as a personal insult to O'Connor."_

Mike nodded and looked around at all of us and said, "_So you know that turf war we've all been trying to avoid? Well, I think it's on."_

It wasn't a pleasant thought, the idea of a turf war, and yet after listening to the latest on the case, it sounded like maybe it was in the books anyway.

An internal turf war amongst the Albanians.

If Demachi was flying off the handle by putting out a hit on a cop, then any retaliation done by the Irish would likely be forgiven by old man Brozi.

But what was this mess about Christina bucking for the top position?

"_So she's just been milking the system_?" I asked incredulously as I looked first at Mary and then Jennifer. "_What are we going to do about it?"_

"_We've got the US Attorney coming down tomorrow," _Mary stated. "_Until then, Christina insists she's not talking to anyone, and that's fine. I'm sick of her anyway. She's in solitary confinement and she can stay there until Bailey gets here."_

"_And we still don't know who the baby's father is?"_ Mike asked.

"_Is it even relevant?"_ Bernard questioned.

"_She made a point of telling me that she meant to get pregnant. And at the very least, she says it's not Rama's baby."_

"_That would be impossible to know unless she wasn't actually sleeping with him."_

"_Which she says she was."_

"_If Christina wants to get in good with Brozi,"_ Bobby began. "_Then wouldn't it benefit her to ingratiate herself with someone he cares about?"_

"_Wouldn't that be Demachi and Rama?"_ I asked. "_They're the lieutenants."_

"_Which is why she started seeing them_," Alex said with a nod, and I could feel the energy increase as it seemed that maybe we were on to something.

"_And then she maybe she realized that Brozi doesn't care about them as much as she first thought."_

"_And that's when she decided that she had a chance to go for the brass ring,"_ Mike concluded. "_So how does the baby help? Because she has to know that it's going to make her more vulnerable, at least for a little while, once she starts getting closer to term, and then immediately after."_

"_Are you suggesting that a woman can't handle running a mafia organization while giving birth?" _Jennifer asked challengingly.

"_There's no way in the world I'd ever suggest that_," Mike replied quickly, although Jennifer was smiling a little, apparently just picking at him. "_All I'm saying is that it's not the optimal condition."_

"_Agreed,"_ Mary said. _"So…"_

"_So the blonde man is someone in Brozi's circle,"_ Bobby said.

We spent the afternoon running down that theory.

Not literally, but I mean we holed up in the conference room with laptops and coffee.

Men like Alek Brozi are hard to track.

He probably has men working for him whose sole purpose is to erase his footprints.

But as good as he is, we're better.

After all, we had four marshals and six detectives working the case.

"Marco Sterescu," Alex announced triumphantly at four-thirty.

"Who the hell is that?" Mary asked.

"The son of Brozi's reported mistress, Gabriella Sterescu."

"Sterescu," Lupo said thoughtfully. "That's not Albanian. That's Romanian."

"Which is maybe why she's a mistress and not a wife," Mike posed. "He was afraid to take her home to meet the parents."

"How do you know it's him?" I asked.

"I don't, but look," Alex replied, turning the laptop around so everyone could see it. She'd found a picture of Marco as a senior in high school. He was apparently a star forward at the Windsor School. "He looks tall and blonde to me. And this article is from seven years ago. He'd be in his mid-twenties by now."

"It would make sense," McInnis agreed. "Having Brozi's grandchild…that would endear her to him, don't you think?"

"Definitely. The family business would carry on," Jennifer said.

"I'll get Brianna on the phone and see if she can ID him if we send her the photo."

"Put it in a six-pack," Mary said. "Just to be on the safe side. I don't want her picking him just because he's close."

So Bobby made the call while Alex transferred the photo into a pre-set six-pack of similar-looking men, and then she emailed it to the girl's phone.

"If she ID's him, are we going to get him tonight?" Bernard asked, and I could tell by the way he asked it that he was hoping her answer was going to be no.

I noticed that Jennifer was watching Mary carefully and so was Daniels.

It seemed like everyone was ready to be done for the day.

I don't blame them. I was nearly out of gas, too.

"He hasn't done anything wrong that we know of," Mary answered. "And I don't want to freak him out by showing up on his doorstep on a Friday night. I say we call it quits for tonight, and we'll pick back up in the morning."

"Who's going to Steve-O's?" I asked.

The bed was really calling my name, but I figured it wouldn't kill me to spend an hour or two unwinding with friends.

And I've got to catch up with Liz.

And Mike's looking a lot more perky than he was this morning, so I think maybe the medicine is finally helping him feel better, which means I can't be too far behind.

"We'll go for a little while," Alex said after discussing it silently with Bobby.

"Me, too," Mary said. "I'll call John and have him meet us there."

"I'm out," Jennifer said.

"That's right," Alex remarked with a smirk. "You have a date."

"A date?" Daniels asked. "With who?"

"Whom," Jennifer deflected. "And I'm not telling you. Go have your Skype date with your wife and don't wait up for me."

"Don't wait up for me either," McInnis said, then he rolled his eyes at Jennifer and added, "Jessica Alba awaits."

"Jessica Alba?" Mary asked.

"A girl from the bar Wednesday night," Jennifer explained.

"I might be there," Bernard said. "I'll check with Lauren."

"You have to ask the boss?" Lupo teased.

"It's usually a good idea," Mike agreed.

I nudged him with my shoulder, but smiled at him, because the mood in the entire room had lightened just on the possibility that we might have made some kind of monumental progress.

Understanding motive is half the battle, so it looked as if we might have a handle on why Christina wanted to be pregnant.

"You two might be whipped, but I'm not," Lupo asserted. "Connie and I will be there, and if she doesn't like it…"

"You already asked her, didn't you?" Bernard interrupted.

The two of them started joking back and forth and then Alex shushed everyone when Bobby's phone started ringing.

"It's Brianna," he said, and then he answered, "Detective Goren."

We all watched him as he listened for a minute and then he hung up and grinned broadly as he said, "She picked him. Alek Brozi's son. He's our mystery man."

TBC...


	70. Chapter 70

**Hayes POV**

* * *

><p>"I've got good news and bad news," I said to Ross as I stared at Jeremy from across the waiting room of the ER.<p>

He smiled at me, an action barely visible due to the dishtowel filled with ice that was currently covering his nose, but I still knew it was there.

Mostly because Mulder, who was sitting next to Jeremy, was smiling, too.

And I couldn't help it.

I had to laugh.

Although that wasn't exactly my response several hours ago.

"_Are you kidding me? Why would you do that?_" I'd shouted at him at around ten-thirty this morning.

After the shooting incident, when I finally realized that I had several missed calls from him, I called him back, only to learn that he was on his way to Washington Heights, which is what prompted my outrage.

"_They're using the Wi-Fi. I couldn't reach you and we didn't want to let them get away_," he reasoned.

"_We? What do you mean we?"_

"_Mulder's with me."_

"_Oh my God…are you trying to get me fired? Seriously, Jeremy, this is not smart."_

"_They're hackers and blackmailers,"_ he said. "_What are they going to do? Kill us?"_

"_No, but I might when I get my hands on you. Where are you exactly?"_

"_We're almost to the bar. We're just going to go inside and…"_

"_No, don't do that!"_ I yelled, and then Eames caught my eye, silently reminding me that the chief was in the house. I lowered my voice to nearly a growl and added, "_Do __**not**__ go inside. Do you hear me? We'll be up there as fast as we can."_

Eames and I left in a hurry, ignoring Ross as he called after us.

"_You're killing me, Hayes,"_ Eames muttered once we were on the elevator and I'd brought him up to speed.

"_Me? How is this my fault?"_

"_You let him come with us yesterday. I should've put my foot down, but now…now we've got a permanent tagalong. Didn't your mother ever teach you not to feed stray animals?"_

"_Jeremy's not a stray. He's just a little overzealous_," I retorted defensively. "_And no my mother didn't teach me that. But if you need your table set for a formal dinner, I'm your girl."_

We got off the elevator and headed for the car, neither of us looking at the other.

He still had the keys because he'd driven the car home last night, so he got in behind the wheel and started the engine. I got in the passenger side, wishing I'd been the one with the keys because driving sometimes helps me work out my frustrations.

And really, I understand what Jeremy's trying to do.

He wants to help catch the people who are hurting his dad and Liz.

And in all honesty, it's probably not dangerous. I mean, these guys haven't shown any propensity for violence, and surely they know where they can find Liz, if they were inclined to go after her.

So maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing.

They could be our eyes until we got there.

But I hated the fact that Eames was upset with me over this, and I also didn't like the way he'd said _he_ should've put his foot down. As though he has the final say in our partnership.

We're supposed to be equals.

He pulled out of the garage and then he let out a heavy sigh.

"_I didn't mean that,"_ he said.

"_Didn't mean what?"_

"_You know what,"_ he replied with a smirk. "_You're sitting over there trying to decide if now's the best time to point out my critical error."_

"_Oh?_" I mused vaguely.

He came to a stop at a red light and then turned to look at me.

"_We're partners. For me to insinuate that my word would be the final say…that was wrong, and I'm sorry."_

"_A man who knows how to apologize. I'm so impressed I have to accept it."_

"_I'm serious, Hayes. But I'm also serious about having Jeremy ride shotgun with us. It's going to get us into trouble. It's going to get him into trouble."_

"_I know,"_ I agreed.

"_And I can't afford to get suspended or something right now. You know I've got twins on the way."_

"_How could I forget?"_ I replied wryly.

"_Ha ha. I'm not that bad, am I?"_

"_No,"_ I admitted. _"I actually think it's pretty sweet how excited you are about it."_

"_Sweet? Now you're just getting carried away."_

"_Maybe,"_ I said on a laugh. _"So okay. Let's take care of whatever's going on up there, and then we'll set Jeremy straight. Any additional casework he wants to be involved with needs to come with his dad's stamp of approval."_

"_Good," _he said with a nod, pulling away from the intersection. Then he glanced over at me with an amused look on his face and said, "_A proper table setting? That's a skill?"_

"_Do you have any idea how much flatware is involved in a proper setting?"_

"_Yeah, a fork, a knife and a spoon. How hard can it be?"_

"_My poor uncultured partner,"_ I teased, using my mother's pompous tone of voice. "_One of these days I'll have to teach you what you've been missing out on."_

With the mood relaxed, we finished the drive to Washington Heights, and as Eames found a place to park, I called Jeremy.

No answer.

"_If he went inside…"_ I mumbled as I dialed Mulder's number.

"_Check it,"_ Mulder answered.

And he was whispering.

"_Check what? And where the hell are you and why are you whispering?"_

"_He's all up in the shit, right?" _

"_All up in what shit?" _I asked as we got out of the car. "_Are you two in the bar?"_

"_Yeah. And dude, it's awesome. He's chattin' up the hack."_

I didn't respond.

Instead I hung up the phone and looked at Eames and said, "_They're inside, and apparently so is our hacker, and Jeremy's talking to her."_

"_Shit. How do you want to do this? If we go in there and we get made, it might spook her, and with him right next to her…"_

"_I know. Okay, um…hide your badge, and loosen your tie,"_ I said as I quickly unclipped my badge from my jacket lapel and put it into my pocket. Then I undid my ponytail and shook out my hair while Eames made his adjustments.

When he finished, I reached over and tugged on his tie a little more and then undid the top shirt button.

"_Hayes, you know I'm married, right_?" he teased.

"_Shut up,"_ I retorted, and then I took him by the hand and together we walked into the bar.

Mulder was sitting at a high-top table to the right of the bar, and Jeremy was parked next to a pretty twenty-something woman on a stool at the bar itself.

Eames and I started moving to the left, and then we made a show of recognizing Mulder as a friend, so we crossed the room and sat down at the table with him.

"_Give us the rundown_," Eames said firmly. "_And speak in plain English."_

"_And you'd better have a damn good reason for coming inside when I specifically said to wait outside,_" I added.

"_And he's talking to the suspect? Oh my God…"_

"_Dudes,_" Mulder interrupted. "_You want me to tell you or what?"_

"_Can I get you guys something?"_ a waiter asked as he approached our table.

"_We've only got a minute, but thanks,"_ I said dismissively, and as soon as he walked away, I raised an eyebrow at Mulder.

"_Okay, so check it. I got a hit on the IP so we knew she was here, and he tried calling both of you, but nothing, so…"_

"_We know that much," _Eames interrupted. "_But why did you come in?"_

"_Because dude, the IP dropped off the grid, right? And we needed to get a visual or else it'd be a freaking waste, you know what I'm saying? Because there could've been ten people in here or two, right? And once the IP shit the brick, she could slide the second-string portal, dude…shit."_

Frighteningly enough, I knew exactly what he was saying, and he had a point.

If the hacker was no longer accessing the internet, then she could go out the back door, or blend in with the crowd, or basically do anything and we wouldn't know who she was.

"_So you came in,"_ I prompted. "_How'd you pick her out?"_

"_Okay, check this,_" he said proudly. "_After we came inside, I fired up the standalone that Jeremy snagged from 1PP. And you know how you asked me to stroke the gigs at juvie?"_

"_You got something?"_

"_Cecilia's first roomie at juvie was a chick named Tessa Juarez. She aged out six months later, and guess where she lives now?"_

"_Washington Heights?"_

"_Yahtzee, dude! Shit!"_ Mulder said enthusiastically, causing a few patrons to look our way.

I noticed that Jeremy shifted a little closer to Tessa and apparently said something funny, because she started laughing.

He was keeping her attention away from the small scene that Mulder had caused.

_He's a natural at this undercover stuff_, I thought.

After shushing Mulder, I said, "_That still doesn't explain how you knew which one was Tessa."_

"_Because,"_ he said as a huge smile crossed his face. "_I popped the top on the lockbox and scoped her out. And dude, that's her. That's Tessa, Cecilia's old roomie. There's no way that's a coincidence."_

Of course, he was right.

"_Okay, so…you two couldn't just sit here and watch her until we got here? Why's he over there being Casanova?"_

"_Oh, well, see, dude…she was getting ready to bail, right? And we couldn't let her do that because what if she's motoring while we're hoofing it, you know what I'm saying? We'd be all Sahara while she's back up in her crib, so…"_

"_But you got her address,_" I interrupted. "_We know where she lives. You could've let her leave, and then waited for us to get here."_

He stopped and looked at me for a minute and then said, "_Oh. Yeah. Oh, but dude! What if she's not crashing there, right? I mean, we can't know for sure, right?"_

"_Anyway,"_ Eames prompted, rolling his eyes at me. "_How'd you get her to stay?"_

"_Jeremy went over and hit her up, asking if he could buy her a drink."_

"_He's nineteen,"_ I pointed out. "_What'd he buy her, a coke?"_

"_Dude, he's got these awesome creds, you know what I'm saying? I couldn't have done it better myself. Well, yeah, I could've done better…I mean, it's got a little shadow along the edge of the…"_

"_Mulder,"_ I said, recapturing his attention.

"_Sorry. Yeah, so, he wanted me to do it, but I'm not smooth with the chicas, and she looks like one who's taken a ride or two, you know what I'm saying? She'd see through my bullshit in two seconds and leave me flat on my ass, right?"_

"_Okay, just stop talking for a minute,"_ Eames said as he turned to look at me. "_So where are we? This girl is the one who hacked the OVR and the SSA? So we're assuming she's the blackmailer, too?"_

"_That's the theory,"_ I said with a nod. "_If we can get to her laptop, we can prove the computer crimes violations, and then we can put her in an interrogation room and get her to confess to the blackmail. Or we can find her accomplice. Or talk to Cecilia and see what she has to say. I mean, if she only told Tessa about Liz, then…"_

"_Wait, but we can't get to her laptop. The information Mulder got is inadmissible."_

"_We can arrest her right now_," I suggested, subtly gesturing towards the bar where Tessa had apparently decided that it was her turn to buy Jeremy a drink. "_Contributing to the delinquency of a minor."_

"_Or we could wait and see what he gets,"_ Mulder posed.

"_What he gets?"_

"_Yeah, I amped up his digits, right? He's filling the megs as we speak."_

Eames looked at me in confusion, but I had it.

"_He's recording their conversation?"_

"_Bingo, ten,"_ he said with a grin. "_Oh, I mean…Detective. Um…see, check it. He said that since he's a civilian, it makes it okay. He said that's what the Gorens told him when he helped them snag that psycho bitch down at the U."_

"_He's a regular freaking Columbo,"_ Eames muttered.

"_Who?"_ Mulder asked.

"_Never mind. Okay, so…Hayes?" _Eames questioned, wanting to know what I wanted to do.

I wasn't entirely sure, but in the end, we waited.

We decided that it wouldn't hurt for Jeremy to keep talking. We were right here to keep an eye on him, and whenever she was ready to leave, we'd just make sure we got out in time to follow.

So we waited and we watched.

_"He's got serious game, you know what I'm saying?"_ Mulder remarked when after an hour or so, Tessa reached over to Jeremy and played with his shirt collar.

"_Don't be too impressed_," Eames said. "_She doesn't seem the type to turn her back on male attention."_

"_Yeah, but dude…what's he saying in all this time? I'd be lucky to come up with even a sentence and yet he's spouting off pages worth over there."_

And he had a point. Jeremy definitely knows how to be smooth with the ladies.

He's cute, too. Once he's ready to jump back into the dating pool, he'll probably have them lined up three-wide and eight-deep.

If I were a little younger and not so ridiculously in love with Bernard…

No.

I can't even imagine _not_ being in love with Bernard.

"_About that Christmas tree_," he said to me early this morning, just after the alarm woke us up for the day.

"_It's okay_," I replied as I turned in his arms so that I could give him a kiss. _"I didn't dream any more once we got back into bed."_

_"Good, but that's not where I was going," _he said.

_"Oh. Okay, what about the Christmas tree?"_

_"I was thinking maybe we can drive upstate. I bet they have plenty of places where we can pick our own tree and cut it down."_

"_B, it's May,"_ I reminded him, although a feeling of warmth and emotion rolled through me at the idea that he was thinking about it already.

"_Well, I don't mean __**now**_**,**" he said with a smile. "_But definitely in December. If you want."_

"_I'd love to do that."_

"_So my question is this,"_ he began as he ran his finger along my cheek. _"Should we get two trees? Or only one?"_

For a second, I didn't breathe as I thought about what he was asking me, but then he added, "_Because_ _I'd really like to only get one."_

"_Because you can't part with your little plastic one_?" I teased, partly because I wanted him to come right out and say what he meant.

And he didn't disappoint me.

He never does.

"_Oh, we can still use the plastic one_," he said. "_We can put it on the kitchen table and we'll put the real one in the living room. In __**our**__ living room. I want…I mean, I know this might seem fast, but I love you and I'm already to the point where going home means being with you, wherever you are, so even though I was talking about Christmas trees, I'd really like us to live together now…as soon as we can make it happen_."

"_I'd really like that, too,"_ I replied.

I could barely get the words out before he started kissing me, and I couldn't help but think how perfect it would be waking up to him every day…I mean, we've been together most every night since we first started sleeping together but this would be different.

It would be more official.

It wouldn't be marriage yet, because neither of us are ready for that, I don't think.

And not because I'm not sure about him, because I am, but I think that living together for a while first is a good idea.

A great idea, in fact.

I'd wanted to share my news with _some_one all day, but so far, I've kept it to myself.

What with the shooting, and then this Jeremy thing, I've been kind of busy, but that hasn't kept that fluttering feeling out of the pit of my stomach every time I think about the idea that _very soon_, maybe even this weekend, B and I were going to move in together.

I don't know which apartment we'll use, but it honestly doesn't matter.

"_You think we should check in with the chief?_" Eames asked me as the waiter came by and refilled our water glasses, since we'd finally caved and asked for something to drink.

"_No. Let's wait until our covert operation is over."_

Which turned out to be much quicker than expected.

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, the door to the bar came open and in walked a man - thirty-something, about my height, and built like a brick shithouse.

I looked him over, as any good cop would do, and then almost dismissed him as a non-factor until I saw him settle his gaze on Tessa and Jeremy.

And that's when I knew that trouble was a-brewing.

"_Snap a picture_," I whispered to Mulder as the man crossed the room in four giant strides until he was standing directly behind Tessa.

"_What's this?"_ he asked her loudly.

"_Oh, hi, baby. This is my friend, Jason_."

"_Jason?_" Eames asked Mulder, who was surreptitiously clicking away on the laptop, undoubtedly taking pictures via the webcam.

"_Dude, I told you he's got the bogus creds, right? He can't use his real name. Shit, man. His dad's the chief_," he said, as though Eames was crazy to ask.

"_Shouldn't you be in class right about now, Jason_?" the man said snidely.

"_Don't be jealous, baby,"_ Tessa said, but then she leaned into Jeremy in an overtly flirtatious manner, and I knew it was coming but I couldn't stop it.

The man reached back and punched Jeremy right in the nose as Eames and I hopped up from our chairs.

As we crossed the room, Jeremy got to his feet and squared off against the man, but then our movement caught the guy's attention, and I don't know what clued him in, but he made us immediately.

"_Run!"_ he yelled at Tessa as he shoved a table in our direction and then took off for the front door.

She grabbed her backpack from the chair, and Jeremy reached for her, grasping her by the arm, but she jerked away from him and headed for the back exit.

"_I got him,"_ Eames called to me. "_You go after her!"_

"_Stay here_!" I shouted to Jeremy as I hauled ass after Tessa. "_I mean it!"_

I hit the back exit with a full head of steam and caught sight of her halfway down the alley.

I thought I'd be able to catch her without too much difficulty, but she didn't play fair. She knows the area, and I don't, so after she went in one building and out another, up and down alleys and through side doors, I suddenly found myself staring at nothing.

I'd lost her.

_"Shit!"_ I yelled in frustration as I pulled out my phone. I dialed Eames, who answered immediately.

_"I was just getting ready to call you. I lost the bastard."_

"_Don't feel bad. I lost mine too. I'm going to call Mulder and get the address. Maybe they went home."_

They didn't.

Eames and I descended upon the apartment that was only three blocks from the bar, but there was no sign of them.

I banged on a neighbor's door, and the teenager who answered confirmed that Tessa and some _big-ass dude_ were living next door, so hopefully, if we could get anything good from the recording that Jeremy made, we'd be able to come back tomorrow with a warrant.

When we got back to the bar, we found Jeremy sitting at the table with Mulder. He had blood still pouring from his nose, but it didn't seem to be bothering him.

"_We're closing in on them, right? Now you can get a warrant…"_

"_Don't talk right now_," I instructed firmly as I went over to the bartender and asked him for some ice. He filled a dishtowel with a dozen or so cubes and handed it over.

"_Are you mad at us?"_ he asked when I went back to the table and shoved the makeshift icepack against his nose.

"_What do you think_?" Eames said. "_You're not supposed to be here at all, and now you've got a broken nose."_

_"It's not broken. At least, I don't think so."_

_"We need to take you to the hospital and get it checked out,"_ I said tiredly.

_"It's fine."_

_"Jeremy…"_

_"Okay,"_ he conceded. "_It's just…jeez, we were trying to help you solve your case."_

_"And we're trying to keep you safe,"_ I countered. "_Do you know what your dad's going to do to us when he sees you've got a broken nose? Damn, Jeremy, we asked you to wait outside…would it kill you to follow instructions?"_

_"You should see what he got,_" Mulder said quietly.

He hadn't said a word since we got back, but now we all looked at him.

_"What do you mean?"_

_"She bragged about hacking," Jeremy_ said with a grin. _"And she commented on how she was about to come into some money. It's all on tape."_

Which is why now, an hour later, Jeremy and Mulder were still smiling as we sat in the waiting room.

Because they'd broken our case wide open with their little undercover operation.

"Is Jeremy alright?" Ross asked me, ignoring my good news / bad news disclaimer.

"He's fine. Mostly. He might have a broken nose, but we're at New York-Presbyterian ER getting it checked out."

"A broken nose? What the hell happened, Hayes?"

"Can I go over it with you when we get back?"

"No, I want the full report now. Goddamn it, Detective, how could you let him get involved?"

"With all due respect, sir, I'm not his babysitter," I said, my voice strained with barely-contained anger. Jeremy got up and walked over to me and held out his hand for my phone, but I shook my head and waved him off.

"Aside from that, he doesn't need one," I continued. "He got a lead on our case, and since Eames and I were tied up with that shooting mess, he decided to check it out. If you don't like his decision, then that's between the two of you, but my partner and I did what we thought was best. We met up with him, assessed the situation, and finished out our surveillance. Of course, it didn't end as well as we hoped, but the bottom line is that we know who the blackmailers are, thanks to Jeremy and Mulder, and we should have enough evidence against them to get an arrest warrant, which we plan to do first thing in the morning."

"You caught the blackmailers?"

"Like I said, we know who they are. We have the woman's name and address, and a picture of the man, along with the information that he's living at the same address."

"Kyle Porter," Mulder said to me.

"What?" I asked, holding my hand over the phone.

"Kyle Porter. I ran his photo through NCIC and he's got priors."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

_Mulder had hacked the National Crime Information Center while we were sitting in the ER…_

"Actually, we have names on both of them, sir, so by this time tomorrow, they should both be behind bars," I said to the chief, deciding not to mention how I'd obtained that information.

"Okay. Well, that's…good."

"Yes, sir. I believe I mentioned that there was good news to go along with the bad."

He was quiet for a minute, and then he said, "Nice work, Detective. All of you."

"Thank you."

"And…I'm sorry. I was worried, but that's no excuse for taking it out on you."

"Apology accepted. But I think the two of you need to sit down and set some ground rules."

"Duly noted," he replied wryly. "You and I need to have a talk, too. And your partner."

"Yes, sir," I agreed, my stomach clenching in nervous anticipation. "Is it…bad?"

"Well, Detective…I'd say there's good news and bad news."

"Oh. Okay, well…"

"You want the bad news first?"

"You want to talk now?"

"Sure."

"Okay."

"The bad news is that Van Buren wants you two to clear out your desks."

The Loo's upset with us?

I looked worriedly at my partner, thinking about what he'd said earlier.

I mean, I'd probably be okay if we got suspended or lost our jobs, but Eames…he can't afford to get into trouble, with two kids and two more on the way…

"Sir, whatever it is, we can…"

"Don't you want to hear the good news?"

"Um…yeah, okay."

"After you box up your stuff, you can bring it down to 1PP. I want you both in Major Case. Permanently."

TBC...


	71. Chapter 71

**Jennifer POV**

* * *

><p>"I'm headed over to the DA's office, if you want a ride."<p>

I'd just left the conference room, having been dismissed by Mary after she did a quick rundown of tomorrow's agenda, and I turned around to find that Lupo had come up behind me and was looking at me expectantly.

"Why would I want a ride over there?"

"Oh, are you going home first?" he asked innocently.

"There sure aren't any secrets around this place, are there? Who told you? Mary?"

"About your date? Actually, it was Connie," he replied. "But you're right. It's definitely tough to have secrets around here. Although, is it supposed to be a secret?"

If Connie knew, then that probably meant that Mike had talked to her about it, and I was suddenly really curious to know what he might've said.

"Um…no, not really. Do you want to threaten me, too?"

"Why would I threaten you?" he asked in confusion.

"Oh, you know…warn me against screwing him over," I said good-naturedly.

"You're both grown-ups," he said with a shrug. He paused by his desk and reached for his suit jacket and then looked back at me and smirked as he said, "But don't screw him over."

"Words to live by. It's nice to know he's so highly regarded by his friends."

"He's a good man," Lupo said, suddenly serious. "And a few months ago, I might not have been able to say that, but it's the truth."

"You and he had issues?"

"You could say that. But it was mostly me, and we've worked them out," he stated, and then he asked, "So, do you want a ride?"

"Can you give me five minutes? I need to change first."

"Why? You look…" he began, but then he stopped himself and said, "Sure. I'll meet you at the elevator."

So I grabbed the bag that I'd stashed in a spare locker and headed for the ladies' room, and once inside, I set down the bag and then caught sight of my reflection in the mirror, and it hit me.

_I'm nervous._

And it's not like me to be nervous about a date.

Not because I've got all this experience with dating or that I think I'm some kind of catch or something, but mostly just because I know how to carry on a conversation, and I also know how to move on to someone else if there's no spark.

No harm, no foul as far as I'm concerned.

But for some reason, thinking about Mike has my stomach filled with butterflies.

Is it because everyone's warned me away from him?

No. They're not telling me I shouldn't date him.

They're just telling me not to do him wrong.

And I won't.

I'm not like that.

I won't lead him on, and I'll most definitely be honest with him, about my intentions and about my feelings.

So what's the deal here?

Why am I starting to feel like I might need to throw up?

"Pull yourself together," I mumbled to myself as I started changing clothes. "It's a date. You've been on hundreds."

The promised five minutes later, I left the ladies' room and found Lupo loitering near the elevator.

"Ready to go?"

A simple enough question and yet it was hard for me to answer because that nauseous feeling is still right _there_, and I really, _really_ would love it if I could manage to get my confidence back, but there wasn't time for that, I guess, so I nodded at Lupo and then together we went down to the parking garage and got into his car.

"So you and Connie are going to Steve-O's?" I asked, trying to relax myself by making conversation.

"Yes. And for the record, I did ask her beforehand," he said with a grin. "We were going to go out with just Bernard and Lauren, but since everyone's getting together, we decided to do that instead. And we still have Mulder staying with us, so this way, he can come out with us, too, and not feel like a fifth wheel."

"That's sweet. So what's his story? How long have you known him?"

We spent the remainder of the short drive with him telling me about Mulder, and before I knew it, we were at the DA's office. He found a place to park and together we went into the building and up to third floor.

It was only slightly past five, but considering it was Friday evening, the office was mostly empty.

"They're probably in Cutter's office having a drink," he said as we made our way between the desks. "I know they cut a deal today, so I'm sure they're celebrating."

"Cut a deal…with Malcolm Jackson?"

"You're familiar with the case?"

"Peripherally."

"Yeah, he's the one."

We passed Connie's desk and I looked through Mike's office windows to see that, as predicted, he and Connie were sharing a drink.

He was sitting on the front edge of his desk, with his tie loosened and a half-smile on his face. He had a glass in his hand, and as I neared the door, I watched him put the glass to his lips and finish off the remaining liquid, and I suddenly had the overwhelming and irrational urge to kiss him.

And okay, maybe it's not irrational. I mean, the man's a hell of a kisser and when I gave in to my urge last night, tasting the bourbon from his mouth rather than my glass…well, let's just say I had a hard time going to sleep last night, for thinking about him.

"I guess you don't need my advice after all," I heard Connie say as I knocked on the doorframe. They both turned to look at us, and she got up as she said, "Oh, hi! Mary must have let you guys out early for good behavior."

I stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment, and then I realized that I was blocking Lupo from entering the room, so I stepped inside, annoyed with myself for the return of the butterflies.

"Yeah, we made a little progress on the case, so she took pity on us," Lupo said as he walked over to Connie and kissed her on the cheek. "Are you ready to go?"

She nodded and finished the bourbon and then handed her glass to Mike.

"Thanks for the drink. And again, really nice job this morning. You saved us probably two weeks' worth of time at trial."

"Now you'll have more time to focus on Flowers," he told her pointedly. "Are you going to bring the relevant parties up to speed?"

She nodded and then everyone said their goodbyes and after another minute, it was just me and Mike in his office.

"You're earlier than I expected," he said, looking slightly embarrassed. "I was going to change."

He nodded to a clean shirt and tie that were hanging on a rack in the corner, and I said, "Feel free. It's good to get out of work clothes, even if it's only back into something similar."

"Or something spectacular," he commented as he deliberately looked me over. "You look incredible. I don't picture you chasing after suspects in an outfit like that."

"No? What do you picture me doing?"

And I have no idea where I got the nerve to be so flirtatious because _oh my God_ I couldn't stop looking at his lips or at the spot on his throat that was visible since the top button of his shirt was undone and I felt like every cell in my body was on high alert, just waiting to see what was going to happen next.

"Now that's a loaded question," he replied. He stared at me intently, like he was trying to make up his mind about something, and then he slowly moved to stand in front of me.

"Maybe I should tell you what I picture me doing," I countered, because he was so close that I could smell his cologne and a hint of the bourbon and I just knew that I wouldn't be able to concentrate on our date if I didn't just go ahead and kiss him.

So I did.

And once I started, I didn't want to stop.

I'm pretty sure he didn't want to stop either, so maybe it was a good thing that we were still standing in his office.

Because if we were anywhere in the near vicinity of a bed, I probably would've dragged him to it.

See, that's kind of my problem.

I really like sex.

And I know.

I'm supposed to.

But I mean, in relationships, I typically find myself skipping ahead to the good part, and then finding out weeks later that I have absolutely nothing in common with my companion other than a healthy sex drive, and while that works for me on some levels, it's ultimately not what I want.

Or maybe it was, but it's not what I want _now_.

So I forced myself to pull away.

Sort of.

It actually took me several attempts before I was successful because the way he was holding me and the feel of his body against mine and the way my insides were on fire…damn, talk about willpower. I must have a lot more of it than I thought.

"I'm sorry," I said, even though I wasn't. "I was going to give you a minute to get changed."

"Well, I don't have to change right _now_," he said, a smile playing on his lips.

He kept his hands on me, running his fingers up and down my arms in a way that was both sensual and intimate.

It was a really nice feeling.

"What advice did she give you?" I asked in an effort to have a conversation so that I wouldn't start kissing him again.

"Advice?" he asked in confusion. Then he nodded and said, "Oh, Connie."

"She said something about you not needing it?"

He smiled fully then, and squeezed my arms briefly before letting go and turning around, moving back towards his desk.

"She suggested that I start our date by kissing you. She said it would break the ice, and relieve some of the sexual tension so that we could actually enjoy our evening."

"And you said…" I prompted as I followed him to his desk.

"That I kissed you two nights ago. And last night. And that I didn't need her to tell me to do it again," he admitted.

I couldn't decide how I felt about the idea that he was talking about me with Connie, but then I figured that she's his friend and he was honest with me about talking with her, so…what's the big deal?

Maybe it's just that I don't really have any friends to talk to about him. Because if I did, I would have.

"I got you something," he said as he reached into one of his desk drawers. "Is that weird?"

"Not at all," I answered, curious as to what he might have stashed in the drawer.

"See, it's just that last night, when you came by and I offered you a drink, I gave you the glass that Connie always uses, so…"

And then he held out a box containing a crystal tumbler.

"I thought I'd give you one that's just for you," he explained nervously.

I looked at the box for a minute and as sweet as it was that he'd bought something for me, something other than the clichéd flowers or candy, his comment reminded me of something Lupo had said earlier, and I had to ask, even at the risk of ruining the moment.

"Was there something between you and Connie?"

"What? No."

"It's okay if there was. I mean, she's married now, but I can't help but wonder if you…you know, maybe still hold a torch for her or something. I mean, she has her own glass."

He set the box down on the desk and sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling in what appeared to be frustration, and I instantly felt bad for asking the question.

"Mike, I'm…"

"You want the truth? We're colleagues. And we're friends. And for a long time, I just assumed there would eventually be something more between us. Obviously I was wrong."

"And that upsets you?"

"No. It upsets me to think that you'll think there's something to it, and you either won't trust me to work with her, or you'll just give up altogether on the possibility of there being an _us_, and I really don't want that because…well, because I haven't been able to get you off my mind for two days now."

"Really?"

"Really. And as for the glass…it's not hers that's special. Other people have used it from time to time. But I wanted _yours_ to be special. I was hoping it would encourage you to stop by more often…I even bought a couple of different liquors to keep in the drawer. I mean, you didn't tell me what you like, so I had to guess, but…"

"You've got a full bar in there, just for me?"

"I had to rearrange my desk so that I could use the bigger drawer," he replied, his countenance relaxing slightly.

I picked up the box and eyed it appreciatively.

"You know, no one's ever bought me glassware before," I told him as I pulled the glass from the box. "You're going to keep it in your drawer?"

"That was the idea, yes."

"I like it," I told him. "And I'm sorry that I ruined the moment, but I wanted to know where I stand."

"You didn't ruin anything. I mean, you're still here, right? We're still going on our date?"

"I hope so."

"Good. Should we break it in properly?" he asked me as he took the glass from my hand. "I've got Grey Goose, Gosling's…"

"Let's stick with the Michter's."

"I've converted you," he said with a grin as he pulled out the bottle of bourbon.

"Definitely. So…I first tasted your bourbon from another woman's glass," I teased, smiling as I shook my head. "How tawdry."

"Actually, you first tasted it when you kissed me after I drank it from _my_ glass," he pointed out.

He handed me the tumbler and then refilled his own before putting the bottle back on the desk.

"Good point," I conceded as he took a swallow. "Maybe I don't need a glass at all. Maybe I'll just keep tasting it from you."

He raised his eyebrow at me challengingly, so I set down my glass and thus began round two.

We'd be lucky if we ever made it out of his office.

_Or maybe we'd be lucky if we didn't_, I amended.

But we did.

Eventually.

After several minutes of making out, with me sitting on his desk and him standing in front of me, intimately situated between my legs, his phone rang.

He didn't answer it, but it did bring us back to reality.

"I should probably…"

"Get changed," I finished. "Go. I'll try out my new glass while you're gone."

"It'll only take me a minute," he said as he reluctantly stepped away. Then he smirked at me as he added, "And unless we get distracted again, we might still make our reservations."

He'd made reservations somewhere.

And he'd bought me a present.

_And you almost ruined it_, I chastised myself.

But I've unwittingly been the other woman on several occasions, and I wasn't going to do it again.

Even if I was only the _other woman_ in his mind.

So it was a relief to get that out in the open before I got too invested in him.

Because I was heading in that direction quickly.

"Mike, I…oh, I'm sorry."

I looked up to see an older man standing in the doorway of the office, and I recognized him immediately from the news.

"Mr. McCoy," I said as I stood up from the desk and quickly smoothed out my skirt. I offered to shake his hand as I added, "I'm Inspector Jennifer Dunn. It's a pleasure to meet you."

I'm not sure why I threw the title in there, other than that maybe I wanted Mike to have an excuse for my presence, if he didn't want to admit that we were on a date.

Although the fact that I was previously sitting on his desk might give us away, but still…

"Inspector," McCoy said as he shook my hand. "Are we being investigated for something?"

"Why, have you done something wrong?" I countered. I was only teasing, but he looked befuddled, so I added, "I'm kidding, sir. I'm with the United States Marshal Service."

"And now I'm more confused than I was before," he admitted. "You're here to interview my executive assistant?"

"No, she's here so I can take her to dinner," Mike said as he came out of the bathroom. "It didn't occur to you that she was my date?"

"Of course not. She's much too attractive for you," McCoy stated authoritatively, but Mike just laughed at him.

"Thanks for pointing out the obvious. Can I do something for you?"

"No, it can wait. I'll see you Monday morning."

The DA gave me a smile and a nod, and then turned to leave.

"He's kind of…different," I said quietly.

"He's the arrogant and self-centered lawyer-type you were looking for," he replied with a grin. "Are you sure you don't want to go out with him instead?"

"I don't know," I mused. "Do you think he kisses as good as you do?"

"I'm sure I don't even want to think about that," he said, clicking off the lamp on his desk and then crossing the room to stand next to me. "So you like the way I kiss?"

"You have to ask? If the phone hadn't rang, we probably would've been half-undressed, still making out on your desk when your boss walked in."

"Saved by the bell," he quipped in a low, husky voice.

And damn, if his tone and proximity doesn't just send my system into turmoil.

Not to mention the fact that the shirt he'd changed into was a medium blue, the same color as his eyes, and he'd left it open at the neck, apparently choosing not to wear the tie, and he just looked so…handsome.

And sexy.

I was tempted to suggest that we blow off the reservations and go back to his place instead, but I couldn't let this be a repeat of my other dead-end relationships. As much as I want him sexually, I also want to get to know him better as a person, so I set a goal for myself.

No sex for at least two weeks.

That might not sound like much, but for me, it would be a challenge. I guess maybe I've always found it easier to give of myself physically than emotionally, but maybe that's why I'm single and light on friends.

"So where are we going for dinner?" I asked him as we crossed the exterior office and headed for the elevator.

"You'll see."

Where we went turned out to be Gramercy Tavern, and it was quite possibly the best meal I've ever had.

Not because of the food, although it was good.

But because of the company.

Mike is attentive and interesting and funny…by the time we left the restaurant, I was _really_ rethinking my personal goal.

Do I _have_ to wait two weeks? And does it count from when I first met him, this past Sunday? Because that's almost a week...

I mean, I want to be good, but he's so nice and I really like him.

So can't I be good while being bad?

And maybe I'm just overthinking this whole thing...it's not like he's pushing the issue or anything.

"You can't take me home," I reminded him as we walked down the sidewalk towards his car. "So maybe you can walk me to the subway station?"

"Or we could go back to my place," he suggested.

At my raised eyebrow, he quickly added, "For _drinks_. I promise to be a perfect gentleman."

"Maybe I don't want you to be a gentleman," I teased. Although to be honest, I wasn't sure who I was teasing more – him or me.

By this point, we'd reached his car, and we lingered for a moment next to the passenger door, with him easing his body closer to mine, trapping me between him and the car.

"Good, because that was going to be a hard promise to keep," he confessed, settling his hand along the side of my neck.

His eyes locked on mine and I was once again filled with excited nervousness and a sense of anticipation which was replaced by resolve-crushing arousal as he brought his lips to mine and kissed me lightly…teasingly and yet provocatively.

"I had a lot of fun with you tonight," he said in that intimately deep voice of his. "And I'm not ready for the night to be over."

"Then let's go to your place."

TBC...

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks to** Guitargirl73** for the first-date gift suggestion. Love the idea :) Also, several other readers (**vdofan**, for one) have been tossing ideas in my general direction - some I have/might use, and others I haven't, but I appreciate them all - sometimes the ideas spark other ideas so they're still helpful, even if only indirectly. So thank you and keep them coming!


	72. Chapter 72

**Bernard POV**

* * *

><p><em><strong>I'm leaving 1PP now. Are you still working?<strong>_

That's the text I sent to Lauren as I left the squad room and went down to the lobby, exiting the building from the main entrance.

I hadn't spoken with her in hours…since just after the shooting, and it was strange to feel so disconnected from her.

I didn't even know where she was.

Although I guess I need to get used to that. It's not like she has to keep me apprised of her schedule.

_**I'm done. Are we going out or staying in?**_

I walked all the way to the curb and looked both ways along the street, in search of Lucas' car. He was on his way to pick me up.

I hadn't gotten the chance to introduce the two of them this morning, but Lauren knew that he was going to be crashing with us tonight, before driving back home in the morning, and she also knew that he was picking me up tonight, since I'd ridden into work with Lupo instead of driving myself.

_**Name your pleasure**_, I replied.

And she responded: _**I feel like tying one on. **_

And then me:_** The group is meeting at Steve-O's, unless you had something more private in mind.**_

Her:_** No, it sounds perfect. I've got Jeremy and Mulder with me. I'll bring them along. Meet you there?**_

Me:_** Twenty minutes.**_

I put my phone away just as Lucas' obnoxiously large '69 Rambler pulled up alongside the curb.

"You know this thing is American, right?" I remarked as I climbed into the passenger side and buckled the lap belt.

"But made for the Canadian market, eh? Now which way to the pub? It's been a bitch of day."

"But you're in the clear, right?"

"Oh, yeah, it's all sewn up tight, so I'm moving on. Am I going to meet your lady tonight?"

"She's meeting us at the bar."

He made a clicking sound and shook his head at me.

"Twenty bucks says I'll have you ready to ditch her by ten."

"Are you kidding me?" I asked, and I had to laugh, only because the idea was so ridiculous.

"The old Bernard would've."

"I guess I'm not the old Bernard."

"Oh, so it's love, eh?"

"Yes."

"Really?" he asked in surprise, as if everything I've said up to this point wasn't really getting through to him.

And I guess it was a stretch for him since the last time we hung out together, we hit the clubs and played the field.

"Yes," I said again. "There's not going to be any ditching. Ever."

"It's a good thing I came down here then."

"Why's that?"

"I need to make sure she's good enough for you."

"Oh, she's good enough. Too good, probably, but don't tell her that."

We talked throughout the drive, with him catching me up on his latest exploits, and as much as I enjoyed listening to him, I found my mind wandering. To Lauren, of course.

And how early this morning, she agreed that we should move in together.

I barely slept after we went back to bed, after we shared ice cream as a way of dispelling her nightmare, because as she sat on my lap at the kitchen table, all I could think about was how I didn't ever want to _not_ be there for her in the middle of the night...and I don't just mean for the nightmares, but for any reason.

I _always_ want to be there for her.

And then I started thinking that there wasn't any reason why I shouldn't. I mean, we were practically living together already, so what was the big deal?

Plenty.

It was commitment, because one of us would be giving up our apartment.

It would mean that a break up would involve _stuff_ and planning and…I don't know. More than just one person calling it quits.

But since a break up would be devastating for me emotionally, I figured the practical aspect of it wouldn't really matter.

Because without her, I was going to be miserable, whether I had a place to live or not.

So then I just had to figure out a way to ask her, which led to me rambling about a Christmas tree…but her mind is quick, even at six-thirty in the morning.

"Is this it?" Lucas asked me as we rolled up next to Steve-O's.

"Yeah, you can park around the corner," I told him.

"Great. Okay, so anyway, I snatched up the gorby with a deego, eh? And he said, but it's not a twan, so it's legal!"

I laughed along with him, but by that point, I'd caught sight of Lauren, who was getting out of her partner's car, so I was only half-hearted about it.

Unusual, that she'd arrived at the same time as us, but I wasn't going to complain about it. It would give me a chance to say hello to her while we were still outside.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Lucas mumbled, and I tore my eyes away from Lauren long enough to find out what he was looking at.

And it was her.

"She was in the squad room this morning," he continued. "But I didn't get the chance to throw myself at her feet and beg for the pleasure of covering her in maple syrup…"

"Lucas," I interrupted, but he kept going.

"I keep a bottle in my glove box for just such an occasion, eh? A guy never knows when he's going to…"

"Luke," I said more firmly.

"What?"

"Put your eyes back in your head and keep your maple syrup fantasy to yourself."

"You're not sayin'…" he stammered in disbelief as he finally tore his eyes away from Lauren to look at me.

"Oh, I'm saying," I said with a grin as I shut the car door and made my way across the side street.

And I'm telling you…as odd as it might be, I can't really blame him for his syrup fantasy. Just looking at her does a number on my system, and it instantly sends my mind down an x-rated path.

And it's not that she was fixed up, because she wasn't. Her hair was loose and kind of messy, and she must've ditched her jacket at some point so she was just wearing jeans and a white cap-sleeved blouse.

Simple and yet so her.

As I watched her, she ran her hand over her hair, probably in an effort to smooth it out, and the action brought my attention to something on the collar of her blouse, something that maybe looked like blood, so I let my eyes wander over her quickly in an effort to determine if any of it was hers.

And then Jeremy got out of the backseat and I realized immediately the source of the stain on Lauren's shirt.

"Are you sure you feeling like doing this?" she was saying to him, and then she caught sight of me, and damn if it wasn't like something straight out of a cheesy romance movie because she didn't even wait for his response, but instead broke out into a smile and hurried across the road, meeting me halfway.

"Oh my God, what a long day," she said as she wrapped her arms around me.

"You're telling me. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. It wasn't bad, it's just that now it's perfect," she said, resting her cheek against my chest for just a minute before releasing me.

"You had Abbott and Costello with you all day?"

She rolled her eyes and nodded as she took me by the hand.

"Yeah, but I can't complain. They're annoying, but they pretty much solved our case."

"Hey, we can _hear_ you," Mulder said as he shut the car door.

"I know, that's why I said it," she retorted jokingly.

"And what happened to little Ross? Does the chief know about it?"

"He knows about the nose, but we're not going to mention that he's got a fake ID, are we Jeremy?" she said pointedly.

"You don't have to remind me about that. Remind _him_," he said, nodding at Mulder. "He's the one who ratted me out to you."

"Dude, they were sitting right _there_ watching you drink a beer," he fired back. "What was I supposed to say?"

"So are you too afraid to introduce me to your lady, Bernard?" Lucas asked. I'd actually forgotten about him for a moment, but he was still standing behind me. "See, back in college, I used to steal all of his girlfriends away from him."

I snorted my disagreement, but Lauren smiled politely and shook his hand after he introduced himself.

"Lauren Hayes," she said. "And as charming as you might be, there's not a chance in hell of a college flashback."

"Lord, I hope not," Eames said as he finally joined the group. He'd been waiting on the sidewalk, and I wasn't sure if it's because doesn't care much for me, or what, but as he approached, he had a huge smile on his face. "When I was at Colgate, I got arrested for taking part in a sit-in."

"A _what_?" Lucas asked him in amusement. "In upstate New York? Please. You've never seen a real protest until you've been to California."

"Says the Canadian," I pointed out.

"I adapted to life in LA better than you did, eh?"

"I'm from _Compton_," I argued.

"Wait, you were arrested?" Lauren asked her partner. "You never told me that."

His smile got even wider as he said, "Well, maybe we'll start sharing more things. _Now_."

I looked at him curiously as she flashed him a look that clearly said for him to shut up, and he started laughing, apologizing as he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Hayes. It's just so damn awesome! How did you expect me to keep it a secret?"

"That's why I told you to just ignore him until I had a chance to talk to him," she replied.

Good. At least that explained why Eames initially seemed less than thrilled to be around me. I mean, he's her partner. He and I need to be friends.

"Keep what a secret?" I asked Lauren. "Why's he so happy?"

"I was going to tell you in _private_," she answered as she glared at Eames, but then she turned around and looked at me, grabbing onto the front of my shirt and out of nowhere, kissing me enthusiastically.

I have no idea what the secret is, but I'm liking it already.

"The Chief is pulling us into Major Case," she announced excitedly.

Oh. I guess maybe I _could've_ guessed that secret, but I didn't realize Ross was going to move so fast.

"Permanently," Eames added. "Alicia's not going to believe this."

"You haven't told her yet?"

"Nope. I'm coming in to buy a round for my new brethren, and then I'm going to pick up a bottle of sparkling cider and head for home to start the real celebration."

"You can stop right there," Lauren teased. "I don't want to know what the real celebration involves."

"Probably the same thing yours will," he retorted. "So let's get this show on the road."

He turned and headed for the corner, to go into the bar, with Jeremy and Mulder right behind him. Lucas glanced at me in question and I gestured for him to follow the others.

I needed another minute with Lauren.

"I'm so proud of you," I said as I pulled her into a hug. "Congratulations."

"Do you think he's only doing it because we're friends?" she asked hesitantly.

"I think he's doing it because you're both Major Case material. He's been in the game long enough to know the goods when he sees it. And you've got the goods, Lauren."

"You're sure? I mean, Jeremy and Mulder solved our case today."

"Who's your suspect?"

"A girl who was in juvie with Cecilia."

"Wasn't that your theory? You asked Mulder to find that information, right?"

"Well, yes."

"So there you go," I said decisively.

"I love you," she replied on sigh. "You're so good for me."

"I think that's my line."

"And we're going to live together," she stated with something that sounded like contentment as together we started walking towards the entrance. "Let's stay in your apartment."

"You hate it there," I reminded her.

"That was before we christened every available solid surface in the place. I like it now. Unless you'd rather not…"

"No, I'm good with it."

_Good._

As if that word was anywhere near powerful enough to describe my feelings about her moving into my place.

We went into Steve-O's and moved towards the back of the room, where it looked like most everyone else had already arrived.

And for some reason, Logan was standing up, fiddling with his belt buckle.

"Come on, Doc. I think I'll be cured if you give me one more shot," he was saying jokingly.

"Maybe, but if you drop your pants at the table, the sight of your ass will make the rest of us sick," Mary retorted, and everyone started laughing.

Logan pretended to be hurt as he sat back down and picked up his drink.

"I'm not sure I want her for a sister-in-law," he said to John.

"Well, I guess you've got four months to come to terms with it," John replied.

"Four months?" Alex asked. "I thought you guys weren't getting married until next year."

"He keeps pressuring me to move up the date," Mary complained.

"And I know you," Logan said. "You fold like a cheap lawn chair at the first sign of pressure."

They continued to banter back and forth as Lauren and I sat down in the last two available chairs, which were near Ross and Liz.

Jeremy was on the other side of Ross, and Mulder was at the opposite end of the table, near Lupo and Connie. Lucas was down there, too, having made himself at home amidst the noisy group, already telling jokes.

"I hear you'll be bringing in my blackmailers," Liz said to Lauren. "Nice work."

"Tell Jeremy and Mulder," she deflected.

"Oh, I'm going to be telling the two of them more than that," Ross said drolly as he eyeballed Jeremy.

"Dad, it's cool," he argued lightly. Then he pulled out his phone to check a text, and after reading it, he broke into a smile. "And guess what else is pretty cool?"

"What?" Ross asked skeptically.

"Aaron's in town," he said as he typed furiously on the phone's keypad. "I'm telling him to come here."

"Does your mother know he's here?"

"I doubt it. Are you going to bust him?"

I glanced sideways at Ross, curious what his response might be, and I noticed Liz bumped his leg with hers before he said, "Not as long as you promise not to take him out on any undercover work with you."

"Deal."

"And you don't go on anymore either," he added.

"Dad…"

"There'll be plenty of time for that after you get your badge. For now…"

"I know. Coffee. Errands. Faxes."

"Exactly."

"So your nose isn't broken?" Liz asked, deftly steering the topic away from the point of contention.

"He'll be back to sweet-talking coeds in no time," Lauren answered.

"Not if he keeps hanging around old guys like us," Liz remarked. "When Aaron gets here, you two should go out and do something fun. And take Mulder with you."

"Just stay away from Washington Heights," Ross said quickly.

"Got it," Jeremy said, then he called down the table to Mulder. "Dude, bottoms up. We're gonna bounce in five, right?"

It was all I could do not to laugh when I saw Mulder look at Lupo, like he was asking for his permission.

But it also reminded me of what Lupo had said to me this morning.

"Is it okay if I tell people?" I said quietly to Lauren.

"Like it would take anyone at this table longer than five minutes to figure it out anyway," she replied with a smirk. "Sure. Tell."

"Hey, Mulder," I said as Lupo gave him an encouraging nod, presumably telling him to go out and have fun. "You're looking for an apartment, right?"

"Yeah, dude, shit – I was going to take a peek in the pre-list DB of the rock, right? You know, get the DL on a crib before it jumps into the river, you know what I'm saying? But the hands were spinning, right? So…you know."

"That's a yes," Lauren whispered to me.

"I'm with him," I told her. "Sort of."

"Spit it out, B," Lupo said, knowing exactly where I was going.

And for some reason, I suddenly felt self-conscious.

I was getting ready to announce to more than a dozen people, including our boss, that Lauren and I are moving in together.

It was going to make it real, which means if something happens and she changes her mind…

But she squeezed my hand where she was holding it under the table, and I realized that I was being silly.

It's already real and she's not going to change her mind.

"Lauren's looking to sublet her apartment, so if you're interested…"

"Sublet because…you two are moving in together?" Bobby asked.

"This weekend, if we can find the time," she answered.

"Get that blackmailer to confess, and you'll have the time," Ross said. "I'll even offer you free child labor to help carry boxes. It's the least Jeremy can do after putting you and Eames in such a difficult situation."

"Thank you," she replied as Eames said, "Why didn't you tell me things were so serious? Come on, Hayes...oh, hey, you're not going to want to trade partners, are you?"

"Trade partners?" Alex asked. "How would that work?"

"Oh, because get this, big sister," Eames said with a grin. "I'm moving into _your_ house. Starting Monday, Hayes and I are in Major Case."

"More good news," Logan said amidst a chorus of congratulatory remarks. "So who's buying the drinks?"

"I am," Eames answered. "One round on me, and then I'm out."

He waved to the waitress and put in the order and then turned back to Lauren and looked at her questioningly.

I hadn't even considered trading partners.

And it's not that I don't love working with her, because I do, but Lupo's my partner, and I suddenly wondered if that was saying something about me, that maybe I'm not as fully committed as I should be because the others are doing it…Alex and Bobby, and Mike and Carolyn…would Lauren be offended if I don't offer to work with her?

I don't know, but it's something I wish we'd thought to discuss before now.

But all it took was a look from Lauren and I could tell that she was with me.

"No," she said as she held my gaze. "We want to keep it like it is, right, B?"

"Right."

"Good, so that's settled," Mary stated. "Now I want to know when you guys are getting married."

"One step at a time, Inspector," I replied. "How about you? You said four months. So now it's September?"

She glanced at John and then shrugged as she smiled and said, "Well, it was, but now I'm thinking maybe August."

TBC...


	73. Chapter 73

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>"Don't tell Dad. I'll go see him and Mom this weekend."<p>

"I wouldn't dream of stealing your thunder," I replied as I hugged Sean goodbye. "And congratulations. I'm proud of you."

"I feel like I should be thanking you," he admittedly quietly.

"I didn't say a word. You earned it."

"Maybe, but it only happened so quickly because of you."

"It's an opportunity," I told him. "What you do with it is up to you."

"I know what I'm going to do with it," he answered with a grin. "I'm going to kick _ass_."

"Good. Now get out of here, and tell Alicia I said hello, okay?"

"Will do."

Sean shook Bobby's hand, said goodnight to everyone, fist-bumped Lauren, thanked Ross one more time, and then left Steve-O's.

"Okay, so who's buying the next round?" Lupo said.

"Me," Mike replied. "Because I found out some interesting news today, too."

I was a little surprised that he was going to announce it to the entire table, but mostly only because I thought he'd stew over it for a while longer before making it known.

But he seemed to be embracing it, which is good, because my dad's on his way back from Boston, and he said he found quite a bit of information.

"_What is it?"_ I'd asked him when we spoke on the phone. We were on our way from 1PP to Steve-O's, and it was just me and Bobby in the car.

"_I can't tell you,"_ my dad answered.

"_Dad…"_

"_I'm sorry, Alex, but you're not my client."_

"_No, I'm your boss,"_ I argued.

"_What if Mike doesn't want you to know?"_

"_Fine. But tell me this…is it good news? Because I don't want him getting hurt."_

"_It's all good news, honey."_

"_Okay. Well, drive safe and I'll try to catch up with you over the weekend."_

"_Is everything alright with you? And Bobby?"_

_He's got a two-day old hole in his head, but he seems to be just fine_, I thought as I glanced over at my husband. He had his head back against the seat and his eyes were closed.

"_Couldn't be better,"_ I answered. I hung up with him and then put my hand on Bobby's leg. He didn't open his eyes, but he moved his hand over top of mine.

"_I'm fine,"_ he said without me having to ask the question.

"_You've got a headache?"_

"_It's not too bad."_

"_But it's still there. Maybe we should take you in for a follow-up."_

"_Monday. If I still have one on Monday, then I'll go."_

I wasn't crazy about waiting through the weekend, but I was also hopeful that we'd have time for some rest, and maybe that's all he needs.

"_I think we need to talk to Alek Brozi_," he told me after we'd driven in silence for several minutes.

"_And Marco Sterescu,"_ I added. "_I wonder why she's not still seeing him."_

"_Do we know that she's not?"_

"_Well, no, but there's no evidence that she is."_

"_There's none in her finances. Maybe she started meeting him at her home."_

"_Until she gave it up to join Witsec," _I mused. "_So what are you thinking?"_

"_Either he's in on the plan with her, and they knew they'd have to spend a little bit of time apart in order to keep it a secret until the timing was right…"_

"_In which case she was telling the truth when she said she loves him."_

"_Right. Or…"_

"_Or she's lying about that and she only used him as a sperm donor so that she could get in good with the old man."_

"_You sound like you think it's option B."_

"_Definitely. She's too calculating for love. Aside from that, what would be in it for Marco?"_

_"Maybe he's in love."_

"_Maybe. But he could probably take over for Brozi without Christina, since he's the son. Which, by the way, we need to confirm. I mean, just because his mistress had a kid, doesn't mean it's his."_

"_Good point. Okay, so…assuming he's the son, then you're right. He could probably convince Brozi to let him start running things. He wouldn't need her at all."_

It was a never-ending cycle of questions without answers, and I was sick to death of Christina and her lies.

A good end to this case would be for Christina to end up behind bars right along with Demachi and Rama. She's the one who set this ball rolling...she's the one ultimately responsible for all of the murders. Maybe not solely, but partly, for sure.

"_So, Brozi and Marco…then Christina again…"_

"_We're not going to get a weekend after all, are we?"_ I asked on a sigh as I found a place to park in front of Steve-O's.

"_We've got tonight,"_ he said, finally opening his eyes and turning to look at me, a half-smile on his face.

"_Who needs tomorrow?"_ I quipped.

"_Are you really going to start quoting Bob Segar?"_ he asked on a chuckle.

"_Hey, you started it."_

He unbuckled and leaned over to me as he said, "_If you're going to serenade me with lyrics, the least you can do is pick the right Segar song."_

"_Which would be…"_

"_You're Always in My Heart?"_ he suggested as he brought his lips against mine.

"_Or Night Moves,"_ I countered.

"_My Alex…such a romantic_," he teased. "_But yeah, that one works. Let's go have a few drinks, and then we'll see what we can do about our night moves."_

"_If your headache goes away."_

"_What headache?" _

He kissed me one more time, and then we got out of the car and went into the bar.

We were second only to Mike and Carolyn, and that was nearly an hour ago. By now, everyone was here. Well, Sean had come and gone, and Jeremy and Mulder had just left a few minutes ago, too, since Aaron was in town.

I can just imagine the trouble those three might get into, but it would be good for Mulder to see how normal young adults live.

And I think it's really great that Lauren's going to rent him her apartment.

I glanced down the table, thinking about her and Bernard while Mike made his announcement about his father.

I never would've guessed that they'd be ready to move in together already, but they definitely look happy.

I need to make more of an effort to talk to her. I mean, I like her, and she's Sean's partner. I don't want her to feel like an outsider in the group.

"He passed away last summer, but he spent his life working for the Boston PD," Mike concluded with what sounded like pride.

"I'm so glad this is how it worked out," Bobby whispered to me. "And that he's _talking_ about it."

"You've been a good role model for him."

"Me?"

"Don't sound so surprised. You know what he thinks of you. And you were strong enough to find out the truth about your father, good or bad."

"Boston," I heard Bernard say. "You know, I wanted to ask why Shane O'Connor was watching your back, but I figured if you wanted me to know, you'd tell me."

"Well, I'm telling you now. And that's also why I've got a couple of Irish shadows," Mike said. "O'Connor owes my father, so he's decided to repay me instead."

"O'Connor put a tail on you?" Ross asked. "Are you sure that's safe?"

"We trust him," Carolyn said.

Ross glanced at me and Bobby for confirmation, and we nodded without hesitation.

I mean, we have to trust him.

He helped us out of that jam last fall, he gave Mike and Carolyn an in when they were interviewing the Westies during the Puccio investigation, and now he's trying to deflect Demachi's hit onto himself in order to help Mike.

He's never once done anything suspect.

In fact, I can't help myself.

I really like the man.

"Okay, well, you're all still in a hotel until this thing is resolved, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Then drink up. And the next round is on me for having to put all of you through that debacle today at 1PP. And Lucas, I think I'll buy you two."

"For taking the weenie out," Lucas said with a sharp nod as he raised his glass. "I'll sure as hell drink to that, Chief. And I thank you for your fair treatment of me."

"I'll be right back," I whispered to Bobby.

"Promise?" he asked with a suggestive smile.

"Definitely. Then maybe we can go back to the hotel and listen to a little Bob Segar."

"I'm in."

"Not yet, but you will be," I replied coyly.

I got up from my chair and headed for the ladies' room after giving Lauren a pointed look, so she got up and followed me.

Connie, came, too. And Carolyn.

"The female mass exodus to the loo," I heard Lucas say, and then Mike shushed him, saying something about how _Alex will pull her gun on you and she's a damn sight faster than that crook in the squad room._

"We're being awfully cliché," Carolyn said as the door closed behind us in the bathroom.

Then it came open again as Liz and Mary came in, and I started laughing.

"You guys, too? We're being _really_ cliché."

"I didn't want to miss out on anything," Liz said.

"And I actually have to pee," Mary remarked as she went into a stall.

Liz rolled her eyes at her and then remarked, "I feel like I'm out of the loop lately."

"You're one to talk," I replied. "I have no idea what's going on with you."

She shrugged and nodded in agreement as she said, "A lot."

"I figured."

"We really need a girls' night," Connie pointed out.

"Next Friday night," I said firmly. "We should be done with this case, and all of us back in our homes by then. Or rather, all of us except Lauren, which is why I wanted to talk."

"Why? What'd I do?"

"I'm just wondering why we found out about you and Bernard in front of everyone."

"When was I supposed to tell you?"

"Sooner," Carolyn answered vaguely. "When did you decide?"

"This morning," she said.

"Oh. Well, okay, so maybe you haven't had much time, but you know, that's the kind of thing you're supposed to tell your friends."

"You've all been really busy. Me, too."

"That's what text messages are for," Connie pointed out. "And Bernard managed to tell Lupo this morning."

"Unless you're reconsidering…"

"No, definitely not," she said firmly. "No, I want to."

"Good. So we want details next Friday night."

"Details, like…"

"Well, the last girls' night, you only confessed to kissing him, and I'm guessing this time you'll have a little more information."

"Maybe," she said with a smile.

"I want to include Jennifer, if it's okay with everyone," Mary said as she came out of the stall and went over to the sink. "She's my partner now, so…"

"And she's dating Mike," Connie added. "You should've seen them tonight. They were so cute, both of them looking so nervous."

I grabbed onto the door handle and tugged it open.

"You couldn't pay me enough to go back to that first-date stage," I said as we left the bathroom.

"Oh, I don't know. Lupo and I had a pretty good first date," Connie said with a smirk.

"Yeah, but there's so much second-guessing and uncertainties in the beginning…" Carolyn said.

"And frustration," Liz added. "I can't tell you how many times I wanted to stab Danny with my scalpel."

We all laughed as we walked back towards our tables, and Lauren countered, "But it's exciting."

"You're still in the beginning," Mary pointed out.

"So are you," she replied. "You've only been together a couple of months, right?"

"And what's this about you two getting married in August?" Carolyn asked Mary.

"I don't know," she said on a heavy sigh. "It's not him, it's me. Every time I think about it, I want to hurry up and do it."

"So why wait until August?" Liz questioned. "We threw together a pretty nice wedding last week, right Connie?"

"Absolutely."

Mary looked thoughtful, but noncommittal, so we let the matter drop.

I figure by the time we have our girls' night, Mary probably will have already eloped.

Once we were back at the table, Bobby put his arm around my shoulders and whispered into my ear, "Is everything alright?"

"Sure. Are you about ready to go?"

"I've already paid our tab."

It only took us fifteen minutes to tell everyone goodbye and leave the restaurant. Normally, we'd have a quick walk back to our apartment, but now it was going to be a twenty minute drive into the city.

I hate to think about what our apartment looks like right now…blood stains in the bathroom, the door kicked in, blood in the foyer…it made me nauseous.

"We'll get it taken care of," Bobby said.

"Okay, that's just a little creepy," I told him. "How did you know that's what I was thinking about?"

"Linear thought process…we're driving instead of walking…we can't walk home because we're staying somewhere else because of what happened there two nights ago…it doesn't take a genius."

"Do you really think we're going to wrap this up over the weekend? And end the threat?"

"In order to effectively end the threat, we'll have to have all of the players behind bars."

"I know. That's what I mean. What if we don't get everyone?" I asked him, taking advantage of the red light to look over at him.

He met my gaze and nodded his head in that confident way of his that always makes me feel like he knows something that I don't.

Like he can glimpse into the future and see how this whole thing is going to end.

And I don't know, maybe he can.

"We will. We'll get them all."

TBC...


	74. Chapter 74

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>Carolyn's moaning had me hard as a rock.<p>

And okay, it wasn't only the sounds she was making, but also the sight of her naked, stretched out on the bed.

And the feel of her hot skin beneath my hands.

Normally, at a time like this, me being ready for action would be a good thing, but since I was giving her a massage, rubbing her aching muscles like she did for me last night, it was slightly distracting.

For me, not her.

I'm not sure she was aware of my condition at all, and that's fine.

I mean, she's twenty-four hours behind me with this strep thing, and I know exactly how I felt last night, so that was a good indicator for how she's feeling tonight.

The fact that she made it through a few hours of drinks at Steve-O's is a testament to her stamina, but by the time we got back to the hotel room, I could tell that she was practically asleep on her feet.

"_Strip down and lay on the bed_," I instructed her once I'd locked the door behind us.

"_Oh, it's going to be like that, is it? Are you going to break out the handcuffs, too?"_

"_I'm going to give you a massage_," I clarified with a grin, loving how she challenges me.

If I _had_ intended for my command to be the start of something, she would've gone along with it, without a doubt, just like I'm always game for anything she wants to do.

And I mean _anything_.

Because let me tell you…she's rather adventurous. Never in my life did I imagine I'd find someone who was the perfect match for me sexually, and of course I adore everything else about her, too.

But I digress.

Because tonight was about me taking care of her.

"_You don't have to do that_," she argued lightly.

"_I know I don't. But I want to, so…get naked."_

"_Only if you do, too_," she countered.

She's always thinking, my Carolyn, even when she's under the weather.

So that's how we ended up here, with me on my knees straddling her backside while I kneaded the muscles in her shoulders and back.

"Oh my God, that feels so good," she mumbled as I rubbed downward, shifting backwards slightly so that I could work on her butt.

"I bet that's what you tell all the guys," I joked.

"I'm serious. You could have a career as a masseuse."

"If this cop thing doesn't work out, I might give it a shot."

"As long as I'm your only customer. I'm not sure I can handle the thought of your hands on another woman."

"You'd be jealous?" I asked in surprise.

It's not often Carolyn admits to her feelings. Or at least, it didn't used to be. I've noticed lately that she's getting a lot better about being in touch with her emotions, even if sometimes they come out as anger first, and then she has to go back and analyze them.

I don't mind her lashing out from time to time.

It makes her real.

Although of course this time we were purely speculating, but still…she could apparently see the jealousy coming a mile away.

"The things you do to me are _just_ for me," she stated firmly.

"You're not going to hear any argument from me," I agreed as I pressed a kiss against her back.

She hummed her approval and then we both fell quiet for a moment as I continued working my hands over her butt.

I mean, it _is_ the largest muscle in the human body and that's where a lot of tension resides, so it's important to spend a lot of time on it.

Of course, it doesn't hurt that she's got a really nice butt…

"You know, you surprised me tonight," she said, drawing my focus back into conversation instead of on her delectable backside. "I wasn't expecting you to tell everyone about your dad."

"Yeah," I answered thoughtfully. "I wasn't either, but then I realized that half the people there either already knew or I planned to tell them soon, and most of the others had to be suspicious about why O'Connor was protecting me, so…it was the right thing to do."

"I know that," she said, turning her head to the side so that I could she see was smiling. "I just didn't know that _you_ knew that."

"What can I say? I'm learning."

I moved down her legs, rubbing the backs of her thighs, down her calves, and then her feet.

"We need to take care of Puccio in the morning," I reminded her.

We'd ignored him completely today, choosing instead to work with the rest of the group, trying to find Christina's lover.

"I'm sure he's suitably outraged that we left him in lockup for so long."

"I couldn't care less what he thinks."

She pulled her foot from my hand and then turned over on the bed.

"Me neither," she said, casually as though my arousal didn't just go through the roof.

_Hard as a rock doesn't come close to describing me_, I thought.

And I know. She's my wife. I've seen it all before.

But that doesn't make the sight of her any less appealing.

"Are you going to finish?" she asked me, closing her eyes as a slow smile spread across her face.

"Probably in about thirty seconds," I replied. "Oh, you mean with the massage."

She laughed and then said, "Work your way back up and then I'll let you have your way with me."

"That's not how this works. You're sick. I'm making you feel better."

"Yes, you are. So don't stop now, okay?"

Not a chance in hell that I was going to argue with her.

Instead, I picked up her foot and continued with the massage, but in order to make sure that when it was time, I'd last more than the aforementioned thirty seconds, I started talking again.

"I can't believe John and Mary are going to get married so soon."

"I know, and she's the one who keeps moving it up, not him."

"He'll do it tomorrow if she'd agree to it."

"Oh, I know. I just mean he's not pressuring her at all. She said she's just ready."

"I think she's the type who, once she's made up her mind to do something, doesn't want to keep waiting around. If she weren't sure, she never would've said yes, so now that she has, waiting probably feels like a waste of time."

"Very insightful, Doctor. What else've you got?" she teased, but then she sucked in a breath as I lightly trailed my fingers over her shins and up her thighs and then back down again.

"I've got a lot more. How much do you want?"

Despite my suggestive words, I forced myself to focus. I wasn't going to shortchange her. I wanted to be sure to pay attention to every inch of her.

"I always want everything you've got."

Did I mention that I'm about to explode? I mean, seriously. And in my defense, it's been nearly forty-eight hours.

But so far, I was only about halfway up her body.

Granted, it was an enjoyable place to be, but like I said…I've still got work to do.

I picked up her hand and massaged each finger before working my way up her arm.

"After we take care of Puccio, I want to meet up with Johnny."

"Yeah, Alex mentioned that he was headed back into the city. What is it that you're hoping he found? In addition to information on Cathleen, I mean."

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "Maybe talking to Cathleen is all I need. I think I'd just like to know if he ever talked about me. More than just on his deathbed. According to O'Connor, she and Casey would've gotten married when I was about seven, and then divorced when I was maybe ten or eleven."

Had he asked Shannon about me? Maybe during that time, when he had a wife?

How would my life have been different if he'd come and rescued me from Shannon?

I certainly would've escaped the abuse from my priest…that didn't start until I was twelve.

I couldn't help but think about the notes my mother's nurse had taken. That's what started my search in the first place, and she'd obviously been right to say that I have my father's eyes.

And her mention of the incident with the priest…

_**The nurse asked, his priest molested him? Shannon answered, that's what he said, but he was a fucking liar, just like his father.**_

Why did she harbor such hatred for him? He'd been a sixteen year old kid – had she honestly expected some kind of commitment from him? And why would she still feel animosity towards him so many years later?

With a woman like her, it was hard to say.

Maybe O'Grady didn't even know about me until much later. Considering he didn't mention me to O'Connor until he was ready to die…had Shannon reached out to him just before _her_ death?

If that was the case, then talking to Cathleen would be useless, other than to learn more about the man himself.

And really, I can't let myself get too caught up in it. I mean, I'm happy that he was a good man.

But like Carolyn said before we knew…what he was doesn't change who I am.

And presently, I'm a man hell bent on pleasuring his wife.

And from the sounds of her, I'm doing a pretty good job, despite the random thoughts rolling through my head, but I still feel a little guilty for going down such a depressing path while we're both naked, so I redoubled my efforts and picked up a new thread of conversation.

"So what do you think about Lauren and Bernard?" I asked her.

"I think it's great. And I think that you should feel good about being partly responsible for getting her going in the right direction."

"You're sure Bernard is the right direction?"

And don't get me wrong. I like Bernard. I was just curious to hear my wife's opinion. She seems to have this innate ability to see past a person's outer shell.

Me, I spent so much time not trusting anyone at all that I never bothered to try to get a read on anyone.

Well, _criminals_ I can read, probably because I grew up around so many of them, but non-criminals…I don't know.

I guess I'm getting better at it, but I still like having Carolyn's opinion to back up my own.

"He makes her happy. And she almost let her doubts about herself get in the way. I guess that's something you and she have in common."

I think we have a whole lot more than that in common, but I wasn't going to speculate about her past.

"Well, I _am_ the master of harboring doubts," I joked.

She smiled and added, "And I like that they're not going to be partners, and that they were up front about it with each other. I mean, we were partners _before_ we fell in love, and so were Alex and Bobby, so I think it's different for the four of us. Not that I don't think they'd be able to work together, but Lauren works well with Sean, and Bernard's been with Lupo for years, so… I don't know. I think it's good for them to leave things as they are."

"Me, too. Although you know, I wonder about that," I told her as I set down her hand and then reached over to pick up the other, repeating the process.

"About what?"

"How in the world can you stand being around me all of the time without wanting to pull your gun?"

"You ask that while you're doing…that?"

I kissed her hand and then moved up her arm as I said, "I'm serious. Don't you ever get tired of seeing my face?"

"I spent fourteen months in Colombia, _not_ seeing your face. Do you know how hard that was?"

"I've got a pretty good idea, yeah."

"I guess you do," she said quietly. "So maybe that's why it works for us. We know what it's like to be apart."

"Maybe so."

"And you know why else?"

"Tell me."

"Because I don't have to be anyone but me when I'm with you. You're accepting of everything about me."

"That's because you're perfect," I reasoned.

I finished with her arm, so I set it down on the bed and then I put my hand on her stomach, leaving it there for a moment before sliding it up to her collar bone.

"You know damn well that's not true," she said, but without much conviction as her eyes fluttered closed and she let out a deep breath.

I leaned over and kissed along the same path that my hand had taken.

"I know that you're beautiful. And you're smart. And loving. And selfless," I asserted, alternating my words with kisses. She reached out her hand to touch me, but I captured it in mine and said, "Uh uh. No touching. I'm not done yet."

"But Mike…"

"Okay, you're right. You're not perfect. You haven't learned yet that you're supposed to take orders from your husband."

I moved her hand over her head, holding it there as I continued moving my lips over her skin…along her neck and ears…across her face…

"I'll take orders from you," she countered, her voice nearly a whisper.

Then she opened her eyes, settling those dark brown eyes on mine as she said in no uncertain terms, "Tell me exactly what you want me to do, and I'll do it."

TBC...


	75. Chapter 75

**Cutter POV**

* * *

><p>"It was fun? That's it?"<p>

"What do you want from me, Connie?"

"I don't know. More than _it was fun_. Where'd you go?"

"Gramercy Tavern."

"Nice. Did she like it?"

"I guess so."

"Mike," she said on a long-suffering sigh. "I opened up to you yesterday. I shared my first-date strategy. I feel...invested in the success of your date, so help me out."

"You don't want to know what we ate for dinner. You want to know if I slept with her."

"Well, did you?"

"Connie, I'm your boss."

"So?"

"So we don't talk about our sex lives."

"I think we already established that it's silly for us to put boundaries on our friendship. Especially considering who you're dating…I mean, she's Mary's partner."

"So?" I retorted, mimicking her earlier response.

"You think she's not going to get all of the juicy details out of her? I mean, really, Mike. If you wanted privacy in your relationship, you should've gone for someone outside of the law enforcement community."

"You're having entirely too much fun with this," I replied, but I have to admit it. I'm having fun with it, too.

It's Saturday morning, and the two of us are in the office, taking a moment to drink some coffee before we take care of a little bit of legwork. We're hoping to get a response from the police in Pennsylvania about the details surrounding the rape and murder that put Flowers in prison.

And even though it's Saturday, I don't mind being at work.

I mean, the pace is slower, and I'm in jeans and a t-shirt instead of a suit and tie, and honestly, I was looking forward to the conversation with Connie.

And not like _that_.

Because I can say without a doubt that I'm over her.

But she's still a friend. Probably the best one I have, and I love how she can tease me into confessing things I wouldn't normally do.

Like last night, when I told her about kissing Jennifer.

I have no idea why I said it. And so descriptively, too.

"_You should just kiss her,"_ she'd said to me. "_At the beginning of the date. Get that lingering nervousness out of the way, and then you'll both be able to relax and have fun."_

"_You think kissing her once is going to help me relax?"_

"_It's worth a shot."_

"_I've already kissed her. More than once. And I'm still not relaxed."_

"_Really?"_ she'd asked with interest. _"When? Here in the office?"_

"_And outside the bar, the night before."_

"_I'm impressed," _she admitted. She took a sip of her drink and then smiled and said in a teasing voice, _"Mike Cutter, making out in his office. What would Jack McCoy think about that?"_

"_I'm sure I'm not the first person to make out in this office."_

She must have choked on the bourbon because she started coughing for a minute, and her face reddened slightly and I narrowed my eyes as I watched her reaction with amusement, but then she said,"_I guess you don't need my advice after all."_

And that was when Jennifer had shown up, looking…absolutely incredible.

"Do you really think she's going to tell Mary about our date?" I asked Connie.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Is she going to want to brag about it?" she asked as she fought to hold back a smile. "Or is she going to call you an asshole and end it at that?"

"So the more details she tells, the better the date?"

"Are you worried?"

"I'm wondering if we should have some coffee delivered to 1PP. They might be in for a long chat."

Connie stared at me for a moment, obviously caught off guard by my remark, and then she started laughing.

"Well, _I've_ got plenty of coffee," she said. "So start talking."

I wasn't sure where to start, but I bypassed the gift giving in my office. Not because I don't want her to know, but more because I thought it would sound kind of sappy if I said it out loud.

Although Jennifer really seemed to like it, and I was glad that she was upfront enough to just go ahead and ask me about the nature of my relationship with Connie rather than silently wonder about it.

I also decided to skip telling Connie about the unbelievably hot make-out session we had while she sat on my desk.

About how good she felt in my arms and how she'd eased her legs apart as she scooted to the edge of the desk until I was situated perfectly between her thighs…

"Mike?"

"Yeah, um…we went to dinner," I said.

"Yes, I know. Gramercy Tavern. So what'd you talk about?"

"Everything."

"_My dad hated me for being a girl_," she'd said to me after offering up a brief descriptive of her childhood.

"_My dad hated me for existing. I see we have a lot in common."_

"_I think we do,"_ she said as her smile broadened.

"_Except for the part about you being from Texas…and hating baseball and bourbon…"_

"_I didn't say I hate baseball. I just said it's boring. And as for the bourbon…well, you know you already cured me of that."_

"_I guess there's hope for you yet. And you know, it's not surprising that you find baseball boring. I mean, look at your teams…the Astros? And the Rangers?"_

"_I'm guessing those are Texas baseball teams_?" she asked on a laugh.

"_Is it all sports, or just baseball? Because you seem pretty athletic to me."_

"_I don't mind sports. I played a little bit of everything in school…basketball, volleyball…I ran track…"_

"_Thus your astounding ability to capture suspects on foot."_

She smiled and picked up her drink as she said, "_Maybe. It's too bad the guy today had to be such an idiot."_

"_Oh, it was your suspect who picked up the gun?"_

"_Uh huh. I'm guessing you took care of the Mountie?"_

"_He's good. And for the record, I'm glad he took him out so quickly. It could've gotten ugly."_

"_It might have, although I think there were three of us who were a split second away from firing when Lucas pulled the trigger. I don't think Goolsby actually had any kind of chance."_

"_Good. We don't need nut jobs firing a weapon in a squad room." _

"So you talked about work?" Connie asked, interrupting my recount. "Mike…"

"I did just fine," I insisted. "And we didn't _only_ talk about work. And after dinner, I invited her back to my place."

"_For drinks,"_ I'd said to Jennifer, clarifying the invitation. "_I promise to be a perfect gentleman."_

"_Maybe I don't want you to be a gentleman_," she replied, and for the love of God could she be any sexier?

I mean, her words aside, it was the way she said them, and the way she looked at me…the way she looked in general.

Because did I mention how much I like the fact that she must have taken clothes to work so that she could change for our date? Which means that she'd thought about it early in the morning.

I mean_ I_ did, but it was really nice to know that she did, too.

She stopped next to my car, and I stood in front of her, moving as close as I dared until I had her pinned between me and the vehicle.

"_Good, because that was going to be a hard promise to keep_," I confessed.

I'd kept my lips to myself all throughout dinner, but I couldn't hold back anymore, so I held her gaze, keeping my eyes open as I touched my lips to hers.

I kept it light because I was already wanting her so much that I literally _ached_, and I probably wasn't being fair to myself to keep up this torture, but I can't seem to get enough of kissing her.

Of course, I didn't tell Connie all of that.

I just said that I invited her over, and that she'd said yes.

"Of course, you know she's staying in the safe house right now, so it's not like I could take her home," I explained, suddenly feeling awkward about our conversation.

"That's true. I guess that makes it kind of strange. So what'd you do when she was ready to go home? Put her in a cab?"

"No, I…um…"

_Not exactly_, I thought.

When we got to my place, we couldn't keep our hands off of each other.

In fact, we barely made it into my apartment.

I didn't even turn on any lights.

Instead, we stood in the foyer and picked up where we'd left off in my office, and since I'd really liked her in that position, I backed her up until she was standing against the sofa table, and then I reached behind her and shoved the books from its surface.

Either my intent was blatantly obvious, or she was reading my mind because without breaking contact, she scooted back onto the table, which by the way was the perfect height, and within seconds, I was back to exactly where I'd been earlier, only this time we were alone in my darkened apartment so there was nothing stopping me from putting my hands on her thighs and pulling her even closer to me, causing her skirt to ride up even more than before.

She responded by tugging on the back of my shirt until it was untucked and then she slid her hands beneath it, running her fingers over my skin, all the while continuing to work her mouth over mine.

I tightened my grip on her legs for a moment, but then I backed off slightly and moved my hands beneath the fabric of her skirt so that there was nothing between my hands and her incredibly firm thighs.

Then she reached between us and unbuttoned my shirt, pushing it from my arms and then scraping her fingernails across my chest in a way that had me suddenly desperate to get her out of her clothes.

I couldn't wait any longer…I had to have her.

"_Mike_," she said as her hands faltered, her voice sounding breathless and...apologetic.

_"I'm sorry," _I said automatically.

I can't help it. Even ready to explode, I was raised to be a gentleman, but my words had her chuckling.

_"You're sorry? I'm practically ripping your clothes off of you, and then I'm the one slowing things down, so **I'm** sorry."_

_"I invited you here for a drink. Maybe now would be a good time."_

And it wouldn't hurt for me to put a little distance between us in an effort to encourage blood flow back up to my brain…

So I went into the kitchen and poured us each a drink, but I killed mine in one swallow and then refilled the glass before I went back into the living room.

"_I guess I have a confession to make," _she said as she took the glass from my hand. And damn if she didn't look more beautiful than ever, with her blouse slightly askew and her cheeks flushed..._ "I'm really bad about jumping into bed too quickly rather than taking the time to develop a connection. I don't know why, except that maybe I've never really cared about making a connection, you know?"_

"_I actually know exactly what you mean,"_ I told her, once again appreciating her candor. And isn't that exactly what I'd been thinking, too? I mean, not right _now_, but in general. "_I'm the same way."_

"_And you know, the thing is, I already feel like we have a connection, and I don't want to mess it up by falling back on my default behavior."_

"_Is that your nice way of saying you don't want to sleep with me?"_ I teased as I forced myself to breathe in and out in a continued effort to slow down my raging libido.

"_That's my extremely disappointed way of telling you that I'm not going to tonight, even though I really, __**really**__ want to. Because I'm kind of hoping that this time things will be different. That you'll be different_."

And I didn't tell Connie any of that either.

Instead, I said, "She spent the night. She didn't want to go back to the safe house, and we were enjoying each other's company, but we didn't…you know. I mean, we just slept together. Is that weird?"

"It's…no. Not weird," she said carefully. "So you like her."

"I like her a lot."

"And you've got another date planned?"

"Tonight. Well, sort of. We're going to a baseball game. Does that count?"

"Definitely. Two nights in a row," she mused.

A knock on the door caught my attention, and I turned to see Mulder standing outside. I waved him in, and he nodded at Connie before looking at me with a grin.

"Hey, Mr. C., I heard you were making time with that blistering marshal last night, right?"

"If you're asking me if I had a date with Jennifer, then yes," I answered.

"You're racking up the points, dude. I saw her scoping you the other night, man, and I nearly got burned in the crossfire, you know what I'm saying?"

She'd been looking at me in a way that even Mulder picked up on?

I like knowing that, especially since I keep going back and forth between feeling confident about how she feels about me and feeling completely insecure.

Connie raised an eyebrow at me, and then turned to look at Mulder.

"Did you get the keys from Lauren?" she asked him.

"She said I'm free to check it. Are you in?"

"You want me to come with you? I've already seen her place. It's nice. You'll like it."

"Yeah, but dude…I don't know. It's _hers_, you know? I'm sportin' the willies just at the thought. What if she's got…I don't know, man. Like unmentionables hanging from the shower rod or something, right?"

"I can't imagine she'd send you over there if she left out her…unmentionables," I assured him. But he still looked uncomfortable, so I shrugged at Connie, silently telling her to tag along with him if she wanted to.

"You're sure?" she asked me. "I'm still waiting on the call from Pennsylvania."

"Go. If I find out anything interesting, I'll give Lauren a call. Or maybe I'll drop by 1PP. I haven't been there in a while."

"Uh huh," she said knowingly. Then she got to her feet and patted Mulder on the shoulder as she said, "Okay, I'll come with you."

"That's sweet, ten. Thanks."

"And you," she said, pointing at me. "I think we have more to talk about."

"I don't think we do," I replied with a grin.

She rolled her eyes at me and then left the office with Mulder, so I leaned back in my chair and let my mind wander again.

"_I guess I should call a cab_," she said after we finished our drinks.

"_You sound pretty excited about that."_

"_Have I mentioned Felix and Oscar?"_ she replied with a smile. "_And it's all the way in…well, it's not close."_

She got up and reached for her purse, presumably to get her phone.

"_You can stay here_," I offered spontaneously.

She looked at me skeptically, and I added, "_I'll sleep on the couch. There's no need for you to go out at this time of night, all the way to…wherever, and then you'll be going back to 1PP in the morning, right? It's only ten blocks from here_."

"_Okay_," she agreed after a moment. "_But I'll take the couch. I'm not kicking you out of your own bed."_

But I didn't sleep in my bed, and neither did she. Instead, I turned on the tv and then we sat down on the couch together, which is where we slept.

Well, after we kissed for awhile longer.

But it really was a nice and different experience, touching and kissing without the expectation of it going any further.

It was erotic and sensual and unhurried, and I'm hoping that maybe tonight after the baseball game, she'll want to come to my place again, because I really enjoyed the intimacy of our night together.

And maybe we can sleep in my bed instead of on the couch, because really, what's the difference?

If we were going to give into our desire, we could've done it on the couch.

The phone rang, pulling me back to reality, and I answered it quickly.

"Mike Cutter."

"Sir, I've got Detective Reece with the Philadelphia PD on line two," the switchboard operator said. "He's calling for ADA Lupo, but she's not answering her phone. Should I put him through?"

"Sure."

_ADA Lupo_.

Boy, does that ever sound strange.

I guess that was the name she'd left with the detective, even though she hasn't really done a blanket change.

Maybe she's taking the time to get used to it, too.

I spoke with the detective, and then decided to make the walk over to 1PP to share the news with Lauren.

And if I was lucky, maybe I'd catch a moment with Jennifer while I was over there.

Ten minutes later, I was in front of 1PP, and I caught sight of John Strathmore.

"Mike, how are you?" he asked as he shook my hand.

"I'm good. Are you on your way in?"

"No, I've got some business down the block, so Mary and I took the subway together. She just went inside. Hey, I hear Bobby is planning a poker game for Friday night. Are you in?"

"Sure," I agreed, and I started to say more, but then movement on the sidewalk caught my attention.

There was more rustling coming from behind me, but I couldn't turn around to look, because the two men ahead of us were pulling guns from their waistbands.

"Get down!" I shouted as I shoved John down to the pavement, and at the same time, shots rang out…one, then two more, followed by shouts and a quick burst of three more shots, and then there was nothing but silence.

TBC...


	76. Chapter 76

**Mary POV**

* * *

><p>"I think maybe we should go apply for our license today."<p>

"Our marriage license?"

"Is there another type that we need?"

I nudged John with my hip as we walked down the sidewalk, heading towards 1PP.

We'd just come up top from the subway, and it was a nice morning, so he was walking me to work and then he had business in a building a couple of blocks away.

"They're only good for ninety days," I pointed out.

"I know, but at the rate you're going, we'll need it on Monday morning, so…"

"Oh, ha ha," I retorted, although he had a point.

I was moving up the date at an astronomical rate. We just got engaged on Monday, and it's only Saturday and yet I've bumped it from next April until this August.

"We can't do it Monday," I continued as I played with the diamond ring on my finger.

It's weird that I don't want to take it off.

I mean, I _haven't_ taken it off since he gave it to me.

The last time I had one of these things, I was constantly pulling it off and putting it on my desk or in my pocket or…anywhere other than on my finger. It was like it didn't belong there, and I guess it didn't.

But this one does.

"Why not?" he asked me.

"We still have to do the pre-nup," I reminded him.

"Mary, we don't need that."

"You need it," I said firmly. "What if I turn out to be a gold-digger who stays married to you for a month and then sues for divorce? I could hire a great lawyer and take you for everything you've got."

"If you left me, I'd be so devastated that being broke would be the least of my worries."

"Oh my God, you're such a romantic," I said, and of course, I wasn't really complaining.

The man has sweetness in spades.

"You love me," he declared, as though him being a romantic was a detriment.

"Yes I do. But I still want the pre-nup," I continued. "That way the tabloids won't be able to write a trashy story about how you got played by the destitute daughter of a con-man."

"You're not destitute."

"No, but it'll make for good copy. They'll probably throw in a couple of tawdry quotes from previous lovers, and maybe a picture of me in my bathrobe, out grabbing the morning paper."

"Do you have a bathrobe?" he said with a smirk.

"No, but that's even better. I'll be in the buff, sneaking into the hall to grab the Times…"

"Then I'll be the envy of every man in America."

"How can you not be taking this seriously? You don't care what those people write?"

"If I cared about that, I would've gone into hiding a long time ago. The bottom line is that I have money, and for some reason reporters think that people care about the lives of people with money."

"So there's no chance of us getting married without it being in the tabloids?

"Sure. I'll be Billy Ray and you be Bobbie Sue and we'll run down south and get hitched…"

"Don't let Jennifer hear you pull out that fake southern accent," I warned him.

"I'm not afraid of her."

"You should be."

"Maybe _you_ should be if you plan to go in there this morning and preach to her about her first-date choice from last night."

Because last night, after we got back to our suite and just before things started getting really good, Jennifer checked in with me.

And ordinarily, my phone buzzing while John was wearing next to nothing wouldn't be enough to tear me away.

I'd most likely blatantly ignore it.

But not during this case…not when two of my inspectors are out on dates, and not when there's a price on Mike's head.

"_Hang on_," I told him. "_But please…don't forget where you were_."

I picked up my jacket from the floor and pulled out my phone, checking the text.

"_Oh my God_," I muttered.

"_Is everything okay?"_

_"Yeah, it's…it's Jennifer."_

_"What's wrong?"_

_"Nothing. She's just…well, she texted to let me know that she's not going back to the safe house tonight."_

"_She's going home_?" he asked in alarm. "_Mary, you can't let her do that."_

_"Not home,"_ I corrected. "_She's staying at Mike Cutter's."_

_"Oh,"_ he replied. And then he said it again with more understanding. "_**Oh**__._"

"_Right."_

_"That's a bad thing?"_

_"It's their first date."_

"_So? You wanted to sleep with me on our first date_," he said with a smile as he pulled me back into his arms.

"_I wanted to sleep with you before then, but the point is that I didn't."_

"_So she doesn't have the same remarkable restraint as you_," he reasoned. "_You like her, don't you? I mean, you assigned yourself as her partner, so you must."_

"_Yeah, I do. I think I was hoping she'd take it slow with him instead of tearing up the sheets and then calling it quits."_

_"Who said anything about calling it quits? Everybody goes at their own pace. And just because they might be putting the cart before the horse doesn't mean it won't work."_

_"The cart before the horse? Is that an industry term?"_

_"It's my way of saying let her live her own life. You've got things to do here in yours…"_

"_You just want me to put my phone away so that my hands are free for other things."_

_"Well…yeah."_

_"Let me check on my other kid and then we can get back to it."_

_"McInnis?"_

_"Yeah, he's on a date, too. And I don't care if he goes home with her or to a hotel, or back to the safe house, I just want to make sure he's safe. And don't even try to say I'm using a double standard…it's different with Mike and Jennifer. I already explained it."_

_"I wouldn't dream of calling you sexist. Sex**y**, maybe. Or sex addict."_

_"No, I'm a John addict. I was fine without sex before you."_

_"Sex kitten?" _he continued, unbuttoning my blouse while I finished typing the text to check on the status of my inspector.

_"Sex kitten? Seriously?"_

_"Sex goddess," _he corrected as he pulled off my blouse. My phone buzzed, and it was McInnis.

_**Date is going well – I'm not going back to the safe house. See you in the morning**_.

"_I've got a team of bunnies_," I muttered as I typed a quick text to Daniels to let him know that he'd be flying solo for the night.

"_Including the boss_," John stated, and then he looked at my phone and said, "_Are you done?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Good."_

He took the phone from my hand and set it on the desk and then he took me completely by surprise when he picked me up and carried me over to the bed.

"_You're so going to pay for that."_

_"That's fine,_" he said with a grin as he unzipped my jeans. "_Didn't I tell you? I'm rich."_

_"You're full of yourself tonight, aren't you?"_

_"I just love that you want to marry me. Any day now you're going to be my wife."_

And the really crazy thing is that I love it, too.

I can't stop thinking about just _doing_ it, which I guess is why I keep changing the date.

"I'm not going to preach to her," I said to John as we slowly walked towards 1PP. "I'm going to hit her up for details."

"You're interested in hearing how Cutter is in bed?"

"No, I want to find out if she'll tell me."

"Ah...a test. You're a sneaky one, aren't you? I guess I passed all of your tests, huh?"

"I've still got one or two up my sleeve," I replied, although I don't.

He's absolutely exactly what I want in a man, and I'm pretty sure that any minute I'm going to wake up, because my life just doesn't work like this.

"Oh, I've got something for you," he said suddenly as he reached into his briefcase.

"Again? John, you've really got to stop doing that."

"You don't like when I give you things?"

"I love when you give me things, but I also don't want you to think that you have to do it. I don't need anything else. I have you."

"Only you can start out sounding so bitchy and end up being sweet," he said with a grin. "And maybe I'm weird, but I like both aspects equally."

"Yeah, you are weird," I agreed. "But I guess that makes us the perfect match. Although, it might help if you liked the bitchiness a little more than the sweetness. Maybe more like 70-30. That's more me. Or 80-20."

"You're sweet twenty percent of the time?"

"Okay, you're right. 90-10."

He laughed as pulled out a file folder and handed it to me.

"What am I looking at?" I asked as I flipped it open.

"Jessica asked me to give these to you as ideas for bridesmaids' dresses."

"Oh," I said as I looked at the full-color pictures of dresses, each of them conspicuously red, which was making me rethink my color choice. "Then I'm sorry for bitching at you. I thought you'd bought me another present."

"No, but the day is young."

"So I'm supposed to pick one of these?"

"Or none of them."

"I think I've changed my mind about red."

"It's not a summer color anyway," he said with a smirk. "You know, we can get on the plane and fly to London this afternoon…we can get married, just the two of us, standing on a bridge over the Thames…"

"It's very tempting," I admitted as I closed up the file. By this point, we were at the front steps of 1PP, so I said, "Do you want to come in or do you need to get to your appointment?"

"I'd better go," he said, but he still walked me up to the top step and then he kissed me goodbye before saying, "So should I pick up the license application?"

"Sure, why not?" I said as I pushed open the door. "July's only sixty days away, right?"

Once inside, I went through security, which was getting quicker these days now that the guards recognize me.

"Working on a Saturday, huh, Inspector?" he asked me as he looked over my credentials briefly.

"No rest for the wicked, Sully."

"That's quite a rock you've got on your finger, if you don't mind me saying. When's the big day?"

"I'm not sure," I admitted, fighting back the urge to say _tomorrow_, because damn it was tempting to get on that plane with him.

No dresses or flowers or photographers…just me and him.

"Maybe tomorrow," I said as he handed my gun back to me.

"Tomorrow? Jeez, I…"

I have no idea what he said after that, because that's when I heard a gunshot, and it was right outside the front doors.

_Right where John had been only moments ago._

With my gun in my hand, I whirled around and went back through the metal detector, setting off the alarm as I went, and yet I barely heard it. Instead, I was counting the additional shots, and wondering how far down the sidewalk had John gotten...

I shoved through the doors and looked around frantically as three more shots sounded, but I wasn't even thinking about my own safety.

I could hear shouting when I came out of the building, but after that, everything went silent.

I looked down to the bottom of the stairs, and that's when I saw John laying on the ground. Mike Cutter, too. He was partially on top of him, like he'd pushed him down.

"Get down on the ground!" I shouted to the two armed men standing off to the left. The suspects dropped their weapons and complied immediately to my instructions, and I hurried down the steps.

"John!" I called out as I took in the rest of the scene. "Are you okay?"

"We're not hit."

"Good. Just keep your heads down."

Two more men were down on the ground, about ten feet away on the sidewalk. Both of them were bloody, and both of them had guns still in their hands.

I moved towards them, with my weapon pointed at the two healthy suspects, and then I kicked the guns from the hands of the injured men.

And then _finally_, more cops started filtering out of the building.

I guess I wasn't outside for more than a few seconds, but I think my heart stopped beating in that time.

"Check the status of those two and if they're not going to die in the next hour, cuff them and take them upstairs," I ordered. And then I nodded towards the two healthy ones and said, "Take them, too."

And then I was able to move over to where John and Mike were still on the ground, although by this time, they'd both moved into a sitting position.

"You're both okay?" I asked as I helped them up to their feet. And then professionalism be damned, I had to hug John, for just a minute.

"It's not the first time I've been shot at," John said. "But thanks to Mike, at least this time I didn't get hit."

"What happened? Who are they? Does this have something to do with that death threat?"

"I have no idea."

"I knew I should've looked into that. God, this is crazy. But how in the world would someone have known to find you here? There's no way anyone followed us from the Millennium. Not without me noticing."

"He was definitely aiming for John," Mike said quietly. "Those two who were shot…they just walked up onto the sidewalk and started firing."

"And then the other guys shot them?" I asked as it finally sunk in that this situation wasn't quite right.

I turned around and stared for a minute as two officers put the two unharmed suspects into handcuffs.

"Hey, what's your names?" I called out.

"Jimmy McKellan," one said to me, looking me in the eye as he stood up straight and proud on the sidewalk. "And if it's all the same to you, I think we'd like to be making our phone call now."

"Oh my God. This wasn't a hit on you," I mumbled to John. "They thought you were Logan. And if O'Connor's men hadn't been out here keeping watch…if Mike was later getting to work…there wouldn't have been anything to stop the other men from killing you."

TBC...


	77. Chapter 77

**Liz POV**

* * *

><p>"Beth Chambers."<p>

My old name was said with reverence and wonder.

"How've you been, Ricky?" I asked as I stood uneasily in the doorway of his New Jersey apartment.

"I've been…wow. Um…I can't believe it's really you. You look great."

"Thanks. Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure. Sorry, I'm just…wow."

"You said that," I reminded him with a smirk as he let me into his dimly lit apartment.

He closed the door behind me, and I lingered in the entryway for a moment as he locked up and then turned to face me.

He hesitated for just a second, and then he pulled me into a hug.

"It's so good to see you," he said.

"You, too."

He released me and then gestured for me to go into the kitchen, so I did, and we sat down at a tiny, lopsided card table.

"Nice accommodations, huh?" he said self-consciously. "It's just that, well…I haven't been out for long, and I'm not exactly back on my feet, but I'll get there."

"I'm sure you will."

"And you…look at you. You're a doctor, right? That's what those detectives told me."

"Thanks to you," I said sincerely, deciding to cut to the chase. "The money you gave me…"

"I didn't want you to know about that. I mean, about where it came from. But they were asking me questions, and I had to tell the truth."

"Of course you did. I understand that. I just…I don't understand why you gave it to me in the first place."

He looked at me quizzically as though he couldn't comprehend my confusion.

"Because I loved you," he said simply. "And Jeff pulled you into that lifestyle…that wasn't you at all, and I didn't want your life to be ruined because of him."

"Ricky…"

"Or because of me," he added quickly. "I know I'm no better than him. But you…Bethie, you were always better than both of us."

What was I supposed to say to that?

My life had been irrevocably altered, in a good way, because of this man's belief in me.

He reached across the table and put his hand over mine, and I guess the feel of my rings against the palm of his hand caught his attention, because he pulled back and looked down at them.

"You're married. Who's the lucky guy?"

"He works for the NYPD," I said vaguely.

"And he's good to you?"

I couldn't help but smile as I thought about his question, because I'm sure _good_ isn't a strong enough word.

"_Do you want me to come with you_?" Danny asked me early this morning, as we lay together under the covers.

The room was still dark and we had nearly an hour before the alarm was set to go off, but neither of us were sleepy.

"_I think I need to do this by myself. Unless it's going to bother you_," I replied without any hint of sarcasm.

And I know, it's not like me to refrain from being a smartass, but I don't want Danny to feel insecure.

Teasing him about Mike Logan is one thing, but this…telling him that I wanted to visit my former lover…it's different.

Ricky had apparently loved me enough to fork over his inheritance, and I'd wanted him enough to make me overlook the fact that I was cheating on my boyfriend.

Of course, all of that was thirty years ago, but still…

"_I trust you_," he said simply. "_Do what you have to do_."

"He's the best man I've ever known," I answered confidently.

Because even though we've hit a lot of bumps lately, Danny's still always _there_ for me. And no, he's not perfect, but neither am I.

"Good. Because you deserve the best," Ricky responded, and then he put his hand on top of mine again and things started to feel a little awkward, so I decided to wrap it up.

"Anyway, I just wanted to see you, to tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me, and I'm hoping that you'll let me repay you."

"You came out here to give me money?"

"When I thought it was drug money, I made a promise to myself to give back to the community," I told him. "I donated to a drug rehab in the old neighborhood. But now that I know it was yours…"

"It wasn't a loan, Bethie. I don't want it back."

"But it was from your grandparents…"

"For my education, and I screwed myself out of that, didn't I?" he answered.

"So go back now."

He barked out a laugh, but continued holding onto my hand as he said, "You always did have some crazy ideas. That's what I love about you. Do you remember that night we went down under the bridge? You know, near the lighthouse? You told Jeff you had to have dinner with your parents…"

While he talked, he slid his fingers between mine, and then stroked his thumb along the inside of my wrist. It was an intimate gesture, one he used to do to me on a regular basis…it was something quick and seemingly harmless that he could do even if Jeff only stepped into another room for a minute…

I tugged my hand away.

"I'd better go," I said, getting up from the table.

"Because you have to? Or because you want to?"

"Both," I answered. "I didn't come out here to rekindle anything. I just came to say thank you."

"Then thank me properly," he suggested as he moved closer to me.

"I think I already did."

"Beth," he said as he grabbed onto my arm to keep from turning away. "I didn't tell those detectives about us. I mean, I told them that I'm in love with you, but I didn't let on about anything else, about the fact that we were together. No one knows except me and you. We can keep it that way now, too. No one has to know…"

"_I_ told them," I said. "And I told my husband. And I'm not doing this again. Please don't make me sorry I came out here."

"You're really telling me that you don't feel something between us? It's like a living, breathing thing, and it's right _there_, Bethie. After all these years, it's still right there…"

And maybe I should've expected it, but I didn't.

He kissed me.

I put both of my hands on his chest and shoved him away, probably harder than was necessary, but I didn't want there to be any lingering doubt as to what was going to happen between us, which is absolutely nothing.

"I'm not Beth anymore, Ricky. And there's no us," I said firmly as I reached into my purse. I grabbed onto the envelope that I'd put in there earlier this morning, and I pulled it out and set it on the table. "I'm grateful for what you did for me, and now I'm repaying my debt."

"Wait, Beth…" he called out as I headed for the front door. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry," I said, turning to face him once I was at the door. "I want you to move on and make something out of your life. Isn't that what you told me?"

We stared at each other for a moment longer, and then I unlocked the door and left the apartment.

Once I got back into my car, I stopped and took a minute to breathe.

Not because his kiss had stirred up any old feelings.

Quite the contrary, actually. It really made me want to get back to Danny and lay a good one on him.

No, I paused because I suddenly felt somewhat liberated.

I wasn't guilty of any crime, and now I'd repaid my benefactor. It was money I'd received after Marcus' death…money that I couldn't bring myself to spend, but this was a good start.

And maybe I'd use a little more of it and buy Jeremy a car.

And Aaron, too, because that clunker he drove down from Albany was a roadside emergency waiting to happen. I can't believe Nancy's okay with him driving around in it.

Of course, she doesn't know he actually drove two hours away…

"_Dude, you made it!_" Jeremy said enthusiastically when we met Aaron outside of Steve-O's last night. The three boys were going out for evening, but Danny and I wanted to at least say hello now that he was in town.

"_You doubted me?"_ Aaron asked him, and I watched as the two boys hugged each other. Then Aaron turned to hug his father as he added, "_Just don't tell the warden, okay?"_

"_I have no idea where you are_," Danny replied with a grin. "_Unless she calls the police and then I'll give you up in a heartbeat."_

"_Gee, thanks, Dad_," he said with that same sarcastic tone that Jeremy uses. It's amazing how alike the two boys are.

_Boys_, I mused. More like men. Aaron's a week away from being eighteen, and Jeremy will be twenty in July.

Dark, wavy hair cut short to keep it from curling like their father's. Intelligent blue eyes, dimples…you know, Mulder could actually pass as a brother, too.

I glanced over at him as he stood slightly outside of the small family circle, and I guess Jeremy realized it at the same time, because he immediately called Mulder over so that he could introduce him.

"_He's your brother's partner in crime_," I added.

"_He's a fed,"_ Jeremy bragged.

"_Dude, that's righteous,"_ Aaron responded. _"Can you badge us into a club_?"

"_I'm not hearing that_," Danny said. "_Stay out of trouble and home by one_."

As it turned out, they were home by twelve forty-five, so I gave them points for punctuality. And they brought Mulder with them.

"_I told him it'd be cool to crash on the couch_," Jeremy explained after Mulder and Aaron went into the kitchen.

"_I don't have a problem with it. Did he tell Lupo_?" I asked as I wondered exactly when I turned into such a _parent_.

And then I wondered if Lupo was wondering the same thing.

"_He texted him. Mulder just thinks they need their privacy, since they're newlyweds and all,_" Jeremy said, and then he smirked and added, "_He says he can hear them at all hours of the night."_

"_Thank you for that insight into my detective's personal life_," Danny said drolly. "_Mulder can sleep on the couch. I don't need to know details_."

"_Still…I guess I should've warned him about the kitchen in this house, huh_?" Jeremy joked.

"_Keep it up, Jeremy_," I said as I got up from the couch. "_I'll make you spend your Saturday in the morgue."_

"_I thought I was moving boxes for Detective Hayes."_

"_That'll be Sunday_," I heard Danny say as I headed towards the kitchen to refill our drinks.

"_So then check it,"_ Mulder was saying as I neared the door, so I paused for a second, shamelessly eavesdropping. "_She said __**fuck me if I'm wrong, but haven't we met before?**__"_

"_The slutty blonde? Shit! Dude, why are you __**here**__?"_ Aaron responded.

"_She wasn't serious. Was she?"_

I finally pushed through the door and almost laughed at the befuddled expression on Mulder's face.

"_Hey, Liz_," Aaron said casually, as though he hadn't just been encouraging Mulder to have casual sex. Although I guess in Aaron's defense, he probably hasn't yet figured out how painfully naïve Mulder is.

"_Did you guys have fun?"_ I asked them as I opened the bottle of Jack.

"_It was great. I can't wait to be down here permanently_," he replied.

I haven't had the relationship with him that I do with Jeremy, mostly because Nancy moved them away, and he's two years younger, so we didn't have the same opportunity.

And really, my bond with Jeremy started with that whole STD scare.

I guess Aaron and I will have to go another route.

"_Me, too_," I agreed.

"_Hey, you know…Jeremy's working at the police department, and I was going to ask Dad about giving me an internship there, too, but then I got to thinking about it and maybe the morgue would be better."_

"_You want to work with me?"_ I asked in surprise.

"_If you think it'll work out. I can do the same kind of thing he does at 1PP."_

"_You mean track down suspects and go undercover?"_ I replied as I rolled my eyes in Mulder's direction.

"_Yeah, I heard about that,"_ Aaron said with a grin. "_Dude, so cool."_

"_Uh huh. Let me ask my chief, and I'll let you know. But you know, Jeremy's deal was a 3.0 gpa or better."_

"_It's locked up,"_ he assured me.

"_Good_," I said as I picked up the glasses. "_Oh, and Mulder…stay away from slutty blondes who offer to fuck you before even asking your name, okay?"_

I didn't wait for his response, but I could hear Aaron's laughter as I went back into the living room. I passed Jeremy along the way, so I stopped him for a moment.

"_We haven't really had a chance to talk about today. You know what you did, it was very dangerous_," I said quietly. "_But I know you were only looking out for me, so…thank you."_

"_You're welcome," _he said with that smile that makes me want to give him anything he wants.

Even more so, since he rarely asks me for anything.

So maybe I will buy him a car.

I started the engine and headed back into the city, and along the way, I called Danny.

"How'd it go?" he asked immediately.

He sounded harried and slightly stressed.

"Fine. What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's…are you sure? It went fine?"

"Danny…"

"We had another shooting today," he said. "Just a little bit ago, out front."

"Is everyone alright?"

"John Strathmore and Mike Cutter were right there when it happened, but they're both okay. And get this…the shooters were taken out by two other guys with guns."

"Your mafia war is on your doorstep," I remarked.

"Exactly. We've got our interrogation rooms filled with mobsters…the US Attorney is on his way down...the Logans are finishing up with Puccio, and the Gorens went out to visit Brozi at his home…Lupo and Bernard went to pick up someone for questioning, so I've got the marshals taking over most of the interrogations from the incident outside, and I guess it's ultimately related to their crime, but still…it's a mess."

"I'll let you get back to it," I told him.

"Wait, I'm not done. There's something else."

"What is it?"

"Your blackmailers called me this morning, and they got straight to it this time. She said they want fifty grand put into a duffle bag and left under a park bench in Mitchell Square by noon."

"They're getting desperate," I commented. "They know Eames and Hayes are coming for them."

"That's my thinking, too."

"Fifty grand…for what? Just to keep it quiet that I have a kid? That's crazy."

"Yeah, well, think about it this way. If they'd tracked the real mother, she'd pay twice that to keep them quiet, wouldn't she?"

"That's true. Okay, so…I guess you agreed to pay, and then passed on the information to Lauren?"

"Uh huh. She and Eames are heading that way already. They've got their arrest warrant, but they're not expecting anyone to be in the apartment, so then they'll have to stake out the park. It'll be their next best chance."

"And there hasn't been any communication between them and Cecilia?"

"Nothing. They pulled fresh LUDs this morning. They're almost positive she's not involved in this at all."

We talked for a few more minutes and then I hung up with him, only feeling slightly guilty about not telling him what happened at Ricky's place.

I mean, I _will_ tell him.

But it's not really the kind of thing I want to say on the phone.

Besides, he's busy.

And maybe I want to kiss him first and _then_ tell him.

I made the two hour drive back into the city, and I briefly debated going home, but then I figured since Danny was working, I might as well be working, too.

I sent Aaron a text and told him to come down to the morgue. I thought it might be a slow day, and he could get a feel for the place before making any kind of commitment for the summer.

Not only that, but I really want to get to know him better.

Once in my office, I went through my email inbox and checked messages, and then I heard a knock on the door.

"You don't have to knock," I began as I looked up, expecting to find Aaron.

But it wasn't him.

"Can I help you?" I asked, and then a sudden and irrational fear rolled through me, something I haven't felt here at work in several weeks.

She was just standing there staring at me, and even though _Lauren_ knows what Tessa the blackmailer looks like, _I_ don't, and didn't I just say that she was getting desperate, knowing she was about to be caught?

Wouldn't that make her more willing to take risks?

And how did she get in here anyway?

What good does it do us to have amped up security if it isn't used?

As these thoughts rapid-fired through my brain, I reached blindly across the top of my desk because my trusty eleven-blade is never very far away…

"Dr. Rodgers?" she asked.

As my hand grasped onto the handle of my scalpel, I forced myself to breathe and look her in the eye.

"Yes?"

"I wasn't going to do this while you're at work, but I didn't expect you to be working on a Saturday, but then I called and…"

"You called?"

"Here. The office. I asked if you were working, and she said yes, so…"

Nice.

Our secretary is offering up scheduling information.

I continued to stare at her as she remained standing in the doorway.

_In a non-threatening way_, I realized. Actually, in a rather nervous kind of way.

And then it finally hit me.

Call me slow, but after the Pebo incident, I'm not taking any chances.

"I'm Cecilia Chambers," she stated in a shaky voice. "I'm your daughter."

TBC...


	78. Chapter 78

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>"Does it make you wish you'd married a mobster?"<p>

"Are you kidding me?"

"No. Look at this place," I said as Alex pulled into the driveway of the home of Alek Brozi.

It was at the tip of Shore Road in Douglas Manor, along the northeastern edge of Queens.

It was also right on Little Neck Bay, and I could just imagine that the sunrises were incredible.

"I like our apartment," she asserted, as she brought the car to a stop in front of the security gate. "Or at least I will, as soon as it's fixed. And this gives me the opportunity to remodel the bathroom, so what more could a girl want?"

"A gated property," I suggested. "With a security system."

"So we'll install a camera outside our front door."

She rolled down her window and hit the buzzer on the intercom system.

"Detectives Goren and Goren with the NYPD to see Mr. Brozi," she announced.

"I'm sorry. Detectives Goren and who?"

"Goren," she said after rolling her eyes dramatically.

"Hold up your badge."

She unclipped her badge from her belt and held it in front of the security camera.

There was a pregnant pause and then the gate hummed to life and opened up, allowing us entry.

"Do you feel like we're going into the lion's den?" she mumbled after rolling up her window and pushing lightly on the accelerator.

"A little bit, yeah," I agreed. "But what's he going to do – kill two cops in his own house?"

"Maybe not," she replied with a smirk. "But there's the bay right across the street…it would make for a good dumping ground."

She parked the car along the circle drive in front of the house, and then she turned to look at me as she shut off the engine.

"Do you think he knows about what's going on?"

"With Christina?"

"No, I mean how Demachi's ordered a hit. Those two guys this morning…"

We'd gotten the call just as we got onto the Cross Island Parkway.

"_You missed the excitement_," Mary told me, and even though her words were typical, her tone wasn't. She sounded shaken. And pissed. "_Demachi's men made their move on Mike, only it wasn't Mike. It was John."_

"_But he's okay," _I said immediately, because he had to be or else she wouldn't just be shaken. She'd be devastated.

"_He's fine. So's Cutter. He was in the middle of it, too."_

"_And you're sure it was a hit on Mike? What happened?"_

"_The two Irish guys who were following Mike got out of their car and shot the hit men, who by the way are named Kadare and Noli. At the risk of sounding like I'm stereotyping, those names are down-home Albanian."_

"_Are they dead?"_

"_Sadly, no. They're both in lockup, getting patched up by the paramedics. As soon as they're cleared, I'm going to take a run at them."_

"_And the Irish guys?"_

"_You mean my new favorite heroes?"_ she replied. "_I'm getting ready to take their statements now. I'm trying to figure out how to not charge them with anything."_

"_Is Cutter still there? I'm sure he can help you with that."_

"_He's here," _she confirmed. "_I'll keep you posted, but I wanted you to know what's happening on the home front since we have no idea how high up the chain this thing goes."_

"_Got it. Thanks,"_ I told her. "_Are you okay?"_

She didn't say anything at first, and then she let out a long breath and said in a near-whisper, "_I've never been so scared in my life. And I mean never. Bobby…if it weren't for Mike's guys, John would be dead right now."_

"_But he's not. You have to focus on what happened instead of on what could've happened,_" I said gently.

I was surprised that she opened up to me so much, but she probably felt like she couldn't unload on John, and no doubt Mike would be feeling responsible for the attempt, even though that was utterly ridiculous. So I guess I was next in line, because she had to direct her emotions somewhere, and I could definitely understand her feelings.

I mean, if it weren't for Alex being so…_her_…she'd be dead right now, too.

It was long past time to end this mess with the Albanians.

"_I know. But don't be surprised if I ask you to call your friend the judge to see if she's available tonight. I mean, what am I waiting for, right?"_

After I hung up with Mary, I relayed the conversation on to Alex.

"_The squad room…out in front of 1PP…these guys aren't afraid of cops, or intimidated by them. They think they're untouchable_."

"_Or they think the cause is worth it. Worth an arrest or death. That just makes them that much more dangerous."_

She nodded solemnly and then we were both quiet for a minute, but then she said, "_Twenty bucks says Mary and John get married within the week, and I don't mean because of what happened today. She was about ready to do it anyway."_

"_Within a week is a sucker's bet,"_ I told her. "_Pick a day."_

"_Tomorrow,"_ she replied.

"_So, if she gets married tomorrow, I owe you twenty dollars, and if she doesn't, you owe me?"  
><em>

"_Yeah, but I don't have any cash on me, so I'll probably have to work it off in other ways, if I'm wrong."_

I didn't have to think about whether or not to take that bet. I'm pretty sure that even if I lose, she'll let me find a way to work off my debt, too, so…yeah.

It's my turn anyway.

For the past two nights, she's barely let me move when we made love. She's still worried about my head, I guess.

And maybe I should be more worried about it than I am, but things seem fine other than the headache, and I feel like I _should_ have a headache after what happened.

The blows to the head alone were enough to cause that, and then when you throw in the drill…I'm just glad it's as insignificant as it is.

And so far, no seizures or dizziness or numbness…none of the things on the list of possible side effects.

It definitely could've turned out much worse than it did.

Now all we have to do is find these guys, fix our bathroom, and then get back to life as usual, which _includes_ me getting to be an active participant in our sex life.

"I find it hard to believe that Brozi knows about what's going on. Or at least, I don't think knew beforehand," I said as we got out of the car. "It's bad for business to attract so much attention from the police."

"That's true," she agreed.

She met me at the front of the car and together we walked up a massive set of white brick stairs that led to the front door.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather live in a place like this?" I said under my breath as she pushed the button for the bell and it began playing a drawn-out rendition of _Dies Irae_ from Verdi's Requiem.

"I'm sure. Now if it was playing something like…"

"Bob Segar?" I suggested playfully.

"Don't distract me," she said as she bit back a smile. "We're getting ready to handle serious business here."

"You distract me all the time."

"I distract you? How?" she whispered as the song on the doorbell continued to play.

"The way you look…the way you smell…"

"The way I smell?"

"Detectives," a voice called out from behind us, and it took me by such surprise, that I pulled my gun as I whirled around. Alex did the same, and we were suddenly face to face with Alek Brozi himself, along with three gun-toting henchmen.

"There's no need for weapons," the old man said smoothly. "I apologize for startling you. I was about to have a walk in the garden. Care to join me?"

I glanced at Alex and she shrugged nearly imperceptibly, so we each holstered our sidearms and then went down the stairs, meeting Brozi at the bottom.

"I'd feel a lot more comfortable if your associates ditched their guns," Alex stated, her hand still resting on the butt of her gun.

"They won't be joining us," he said as he waved his men off. Then he smiled and said, "So…Detectives Goren and Goren. Which one is which?"

Was he actually trying to make a joke?

I couldn't decide what to make of the man.

"Robert," I said to him as I shook his hand. "And this is Alex. But I'm thinking you might already know that."

"How would I know that?"

"Some of your men paid us a visit a few nights ago," Alex said as the three of us stepped through the wide gate in the white picket fence that surrounded rows upon rows of healthy vegetation.

He stopped walking and looked at her curiously and then turned to me, his gaze settling on the vivid bruising along the side of my face.

"You're saying that my men did that to you? Why would I order such a thing?"

"You tell us."

"I wouldn't. It wasn't my men," he said firmly as he started walking again.

_So either he doesn't know what's going on, or he's a damn good liar._

"Mr. Brozi, we're not questioning whether or not it was the Albanian mafia who broke into our apartment. We know it for a fact."

"We're not common criminals. We don't commit burglary and we don't actively seek out confrontations with law enforcement."

I had to wonder if he considered ordering a hit as _actively seeking out a confrontation._

"Do you know Lucas Montoya?" I asked him.

"Of course. He's worked with Jetmir for many years."

"He's dead. I killed him after he beat my partner with an M-16 and then pointed it at me," Alex said almost proudly, and I can only guess that it felt good to her to say it out loud, especially after the hit attempt this morning which was a direct result of Mike taking the heat for it. "So when we say that your men are behind it, it's not a guess."

"What we're here to find out," I said, picking up her thread. "Is how much you know about it. Because your men have declared war on us. The incident at our apartment is only one in a long list of events that have happened over the past week."

"I've been out of the country," he said, his voice sounding hollow. "And I've been letting my men handle the business lately. I'm long overdue to retire."

"There might not be much left for you to retire from," Alex told him, and then together we told him about some of the things his men have been doing lately, up to and including the attempted hit outside of 1PP this morning.

Although we avoided telling him the _why_ just yet. I was still trying to get a read on him, and I was having trouble.

He seemed cordial and cooperative and yet I know for a fact that he runs one of the largest human trafficking rackets in the country.

Drugs, guns, money laundering…he's got his hands in all of the cliché pies.

Of course, O'Connor's a mobster, too. It's easy to forget that considering all he's done lately.

But then again, O'Connor's a different type of mobster, if that's a quantifiable term, and I believe it is.

There's very little violence surrounding his activities.

"Maybe we should be sitting down for this conversation," Brozi said on a heavy sigh.

He gestured towards a large stone bench on the far side of the garden, and then he was quiet as we all walked over to it.

He sat down and Alex sat next to him while I remained standing in front of them. I wanted to have an unobstructed view of his face when I brought up the woman who was at the root of the entire debacle.

"What do you know about Christina Cincinelli?"

"Why? What's she done?" he said at last.

"So you know her," Alex stated. "Did you know that she's planning to testify against Jetmir Demachi in federal court? That's what started this whole thing. She went to the US Attorney."

"She would never do that."

"But she did. And Demachi wants to find her. So does Tariq Rama, but apparently they're not working together, so that's what sparked off an internal war. And once Demachi put out a hit on a police detective…a second hit, really, since he also sent his men after us, but still…now you've got the Irish coming after you, too. It's going to end ugly if you don't help us put a stop to it."

"The Westies are against me?"

"Not just them. Shane O'Connor's in town."

"Then the cards have already been dealt. What do you want from me now?"

"We believe that Christina wants to take over when you retire. We think she's hooked up with your son so that she can offer you a blood heir, while at the same time, she's encouraging your lieutenants to self-destruct."

I watched Brozi as he stared at the ground, absorbing the information we'd offered him.

It was a risk, telling him the things we did, but not much of one.

If he truly was in the dark, then he might be willing to help us end it.

If he wasn't, and he's just been playing dumb during this interview, then he already knows everything we told him anyway.

The second option means there's potential danger to me and Alex right _now_, but since he didn't have his men shoot us when they had the chance, earlier on the porch, I couldn't help but feel like we were over the hump.

"There's a hole in your theory. A huge, sucking hole," he said at last, bringing his old, tired eyes to mine.

"So tell us where we're wrong," I encouraged.

"I need something in return."

"What?"

"Arrest Jetmir. Arrest Tariq. But give Christina immunity for her part in what's happened."

"You're willing to sacrifice your top two men?" I asked in surprise. "For her?"

"Do we have a deal?"

"No," Alex answered. "We can't make a deal like that, and even if we could…people are dead because of her. Countless man hours spent, not to mention the money for hiding her…injuries, property damage…no. We won't do it."

"You mentioned an heir…she's pregnant?"

"About four months, yes."

"And who's the father?"

"Your son," I replied. "She sought him out so that she'd have a connection to you."

He shook his head and said, "I don't have a son. That's where you're going astray."

"But Marco Sterescu…"

"Is the son of my mistress, but he's not mine."

I caught Alex's eye and I'm sure that her confused expression was a match to mine.

I mean, I know we still needed to get proof about that theory, but I was so _sure_. It made perfect sense, and Brianna ID'd him as the guy at the hotel…

"Don't you hate it when things you thought were fact suddenly turn into fiction?" he asked wryly.

Then he got up from the bench and started mumbling to himself.

"It's my fault. All of it. I shouldn't have said that women don't have the killer instinct…that they don't have what it takes to succeed in a cutthroat business…"

"Mr. Brozi…" Alex questioned as she got up and moved to stand next to me. "Are you saying that you knew she wanted to take over? And that she's started this just to prove to you that she's malicious enough to run your organization?"

"Malicious? No. Smart and ruthless and merciless," he fired back, and for the first time since we'd come to his home, I felt like I was seeing a true glimpse of the man.

"Well, I guess she showed you," Alex said smartly, and despite her sarcasm, I could sense the tension in her body as she stood beside me.

She was feeling the same unease, the same shift in dynamic as me.

"Yes, she did," he agreed with a nod. "And I don't know why I'm surprised."

He started walking away from us, not in the same direction from which we'd come, and he called over his shoulder, "You can show yourselves out! But no wandering around unattended, okay? In fifteen minutes, I want you off my property."

"Wait! What are you going to do about what's happening?"

"Nothing," he shouted back.

"You're really willing to risk losing your entire operation for her?"

He paused and then turned to look at us, and he had a smile on his face.

"Yes. I am."

And then I had it.

"Just say it," I told him, slowly nodding my head as I found myself wondering why it hadn't occurred to me before now.

_Maybe because she's led us down dozens of paths, all with believable sob stories and plausible lies._

"Bobby," Alex questioned as Brozi nodded back at me, and gave me a wink before continuing out of the garden.

"She's still giving him an heir," I said. "Marco's not his son. Christina's his daughter."

TBC...


	79. Chapter 79

**Lupo POV**

* * *

><p>"That's crazy."<p>

"Maybe, but I still think it's true."

"I talked to her parents," I reminded him. "Two weeks ago after her brother's family was killed."

"I'm telling you…I'm right. I can't prove it yet, but I know I'm right. We're heading back to 1PP now so that we can talk to her."

"So the old man's just going to let everything fall apart?"

"I think he wants to see how she'll put it back together again."

"Great," I said in annoyance. I hung up with Bobby and looked at Bernard, who was sitting in the passenger seat looking through a pair of binoculars. "Bobby thinks that Christina is Brozi's daughter."

"So she's sleeping with her brother? Oh, that's just…"

"No," I said on a laugh. "According to Brozi, Marco isn't his son."

"Huh," he mused. "It's tough to win the game when somebody keeps moving the pieces around, isn't it?"

"I'm not sure if there's any winning in this at all."

"Sure there is, Lupes. Christina behind bars. That's winning. Demachi and Rama dead or in prison. _That's_ winning."

"I think Mary's going to talk Bailey into pulling Christina's status."

"She should. I mean, damn…she's thrown the rule book out the window. And with everything we've got on Demachi, he doesn't need her anymore anyway."

"We've got peanuts compared to what the feds want to convict him of," I pointed out.

"The feds can kiss my ass," he retorted. "What difference does it make what the charges are and who presses them as long as the bad guys end up in prison?"

He's definitely got a point about that.

I hate all of the posturing and game-playing that's often done during interagency investigations.

Although Mary's crew has been top-notch, so I can't argue about that, but Bernard's right about the US Attorney.

So far, everything I've heard about him screams self-centered asshole.

"So what do we want to do with Marco? Assuming he ever shows up, I mean," Bernard asked as he continued to watch the apartment building across the street.

When we arrived an hour ago, we'd knocked on his door, but there was no answer. A quick chat with a couple of neighbors netted us the information that he's been working nights down at the docks.

"I'd love to get him in an interrogation room. You think he'd be willing?"

"I have no idea. But I think we can be pretty persuasive when the need arises," he responded with a grin.

I could feel my jaw aching already, in anticipation of baiting Marco to punch me.

Although I'm not sure it's my turn.

"When was the last time a suspect hit you?" I asked.

"It's been awhile, but you know, I just don't have the knack for pissing them off like you do."

"Oh, I think you probably do," I countered. "You're just afraid to mess up your pretty face. Either that or you've got a glass jaw."

"Now, Lupes, that just hurts," he said on a chuckle.

"Then prove it. If he doesn't want to come with us, then it's _your_ turn to take one for the team."

We bantered back and forth about it for a minute, but in the end, I actually won the argument.

"Maybe you'll get lucky and he'll want to come in on his own and clear up this whole mess."

"Uh huh. Because everyone we've met in Christina's crowd so far has been pretty cooperative, right?"

I shrugged ambivalently and began tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel while we continued to wait for Marco to arrive.

"So I hear Mulder's checking out Lauren's apartment this morning," I said.

"Yeah, he stopped by my place bright and early this morning to get the keys. I think he's getting the hang of the subway. And he said he spent the night on the chief's couch?"

"Yes, he did. He sent me a text around twelve-thirty to let me know he wouldn't be coming back to the apartment," I said with a grin as I thought back to how the night played out.

Connie and I had been sitting on the couch, watching TV and waiting for him to come home.

"_Is it weird that I'm going to miss him when he gets his own place_?" Connie questioned. "_He's only been with us for a few days, but…I don't know. I'm used to him already."_

"_I know. He unloaded the dishwasher this morning,"_ I replied.

"_You're going to miss him for more than his domestic skills_," she admonished as she nudged my leg with hers.

"_True. But I'm sure we'll be seeing him plenty. It's not like he's moving to another city."_

"_I know. It's working out great that Lauren's apartment is suddenly available."_

"_I just can't believe those two are moving in together."_

"_Why not?"_

"_B's always so…cautious and anti-commitment. I've never seen him like this before."_

"_That's because he's never been in love before. I'm telling you…it won't be long before he pops the question."_

That's when I got Mulder's text.

I picked up my phone from the coffee table and read the message and then sent him a quick reply before putting my phone back where it was.

And then I attacked.

Because we've been confined to the bedroom or the bathroom for three days, so there's no way I was going to pass up the opportunity to have my wife on the sofa.

"_Lupo_," she laughed from her position beneath me.

She'd been sitting next to me, but like I said…the text prompted my assault, so within a second I was stretched out over top of her, kissing her neck while my hands worked their way beneath her shirt.

"_He's staying the night at Jeremy's_," I explained as I pulled her shirt over her head.

"_Oh_," she replied. "_He's okay?"_

"_He's fine. He's having fun. He said he'll call in the morning."_

While I spoke, I kept working on getting her out of her clothes until I finally had her bare beneath me, and then I had to pause for a moment to look at her.

Because see, that's the downside to our lunchtime quickies is that I don't really get to _look_, and she's incredibly beautiful.

So at that point, I slowed things down, because I've been complaining to myself lately about not having enough time, but now I was suddenly going to have all night.

I decided to make the most of it.

And I know that Mulder would be getting his own place soon enough, and then Connie and I would have all the time in the world, but that knowledge didn't curtail my desire to properly pay homage to every inch of her.

So that's what I did.

"I guess you and Connie went wild after you got that text, huh?" Bernard joked knowingly. "It's been…what, three days that he's been staying with you?"

"Something like that," I deflected. "So what's Lucas up to today? Is he headed for home?"

"Probably, but he must be still asleep. He said he'd text me when he got up and around."

"Still asleep? It's ten-thirty."

"He never could hold his liquor. And we were up pretty late last night. You know, reliving the college days. We did some serious damage to a bottle of Crown Royal."

"Lauren didn't mind listening to stories about you being a player?" I teased. "I figure that'd be the kind of thing that might make a girl jealous."

"No, and it's a good thing. Lucas laid it on pretty thick. I think he was hoping that if he told her enough times about how he always stole my girlfriends from me, then it might turn out to be true this time."

"That takes some serious balls to try to charm her away from you while you're sitting right there."

"He's harmless enough," he said dismissively. "And he was lying his ass off about stealing my girlfriends anyway."

"I think he's just jealous of you," I commented.

"Because of Lauren?"

"Not her specifically, but what you have with her. I mean, all that talk about college…it was twenty years ago, and yet he still seems to be living in the memories. I find it hard to believe that at his age, he still has fun going to clubs and playing the scene."

"Spoken like a happily married man."

"You're not too far behind me," I said, thinking about Connie's words from last night.

"We're moving in together. We're not getting married."

"Uh huh. And tell me again what's the difference?"

"Not much," he mused thoughtfully. "But we're taking it one step at a time. She's still got this trial to deal with and I think it'll be a good idea to get through that before we move to the next step. And you know, it's working out well for all of us that Mulder's interested in Lauren's apartment. That'll be one less thing for us to worry about, and it gets him off of your couch, because I get the feeling he's not in any hurry to go back to Secaucus."

"Yeah, he's gotten a taste of what life can be like."

"Ross-style, after last night. I'm wondering what kind of trouble those boys got into…did you ask him when he called this morning?"

"Typical stuff. He said that Liz warned him away from slutty blondes who're only interested in sex."

"Now why the hell would she do that?" he asked as he started laughing. "The guy's just trying to have some game, and she warns him away?"

"I think she's looking out for him. You know, he's twenty-four, but not really…I'd bet that Aaron's got more experience than Mulder."

"So did you give the boy a talk yet?"

"A talk? What kind of talk?"

"You know…the sex talk."

"What? No. I'm not his father. And just because he hasn't _done_ it, doesn't mean he doesn't _know_ about it."

"Lupes, you said it yourself…he's a man-child. And it doesn't sound like he gets much parenting at home. Not only that, but he looks up to you."

"You're seriously suggesting that I sit down with him and talk about the birds and the bees?"

"Hell no. I think you should sit him down and talk about sex."

"Ha ha."

"I'm not kidding. Otherwise, he's going to be on his own in the city with money to burn…he's going to get eaten alive."

Man, I really hate it when he's right.

"Yeah, okay. Maybe."

"Unless, _you_ don't know…Lupes, are you having trouble in the bedroom? Do you need some pointers?"

"I'm doing just fine, thanks."

"Are you sure?"

"In the bedroom, in the kitchen…in the passenger seat of the car…"

"The passenger seat?" he asked quickly, looking like he wanted to escape from the car, and professionalism was the only thing keeping him in his seat. "Really?"

"Nah, I'm kidding," I lied. "Backseat."

"Uh huh. It'd better be."

"Hey, B…check it out," I said, and we immediately shifted back into work mode as we watched Marco Sterescu walk along the sidewalk, heading for his apartment building.

"Let's go see if he feels like chatting," he said with a nod.

We followed him into the building at a reasonable distance, and then we approached him just as he opened the door of his sixth floor apartment.

"Marco Sterescu?" I called out as B and I held up our badges. "NYPD. We've got a few questions for you."

"Sorry, but it's a bad time," he said as he attempted to close the door on us.

"It'll only take a minute."

"I can probably pencil you in this evening," he posed.

"Or, we can talk now," I countered.

"I don't know anything about anything, so…"

"Is there a reason why you don't want to answer our questions?" Bernard asked him. "You're not even curious as to why we're here?"

"You're here because of my father. What's he done this time?"

"Your father?" I asked quickly.

Was Bobby wrong?

Or had Bernard's initial response been accurate and Christina _was_ sleeping with her half-brother?

It's not often Bobby's wrong, but damn…I really hope we're not delving into a mess of incest and inbreeding.

"Yeah, what'd he do?" Marco asked belligerently. "Extortion? Money laundering? Book-making? Whatever it is, I don't know anything about it, okay? He lives his life and I live mine."

"Look, kid. We don't even know who your father is," Bernard said smoothly. "We're here about something else."

That gave him pause, and he relaxed his hold on the door, allowing us entry.

"Something else?"

"It's Christina," I said.

For a moment, I thought he was going to deny knowing her, but then his concern got the best of him.

"What about her? Is she okay? Did something happen?"

"We'd like you to come with us. We've got a few questions, and I think if you're honest with us, then you might be able to help her."

"But…what's going on? I thought she was…I mean, isn't she…she's…" he stuttered ineloquently, and then he gave up on his thought altogether and instead said, "Okay, let's go."

We waited while he locked up his apartment, and then the three of us went back down to the lobby and across the street to our car.

"This wasn't your turn," I told Bernard after we put Marco in the back.

"Sure it was. You're up next."

"No way. It doesn't count unless you actually get hit."

"You can't change the rules midstream," he said. "Is it my fault that I'm better at smooth-talking the suspects into the car than you are?"

"Hey, I helped. And he was willing, so…"

"Luck of the draw, Lupes," he interrupted with a grin. "You're up next. I hope Connie likes that pretty face of yours all bruised up."

"This is why you wanted to stay partners with me. If you were with Lauren, you'd be the one taking all of the cheap shots."

I was only joking, but his face went serious as he looked at me over the top of the car.

"No, that's not why," he said firmly. "You're my partner, Lupes. She's my…my…girlfriend."

He held my gaze until I nodded at him, and I couldn't help but feel moved by the intensity with which he made the statement.

We've had our disagreements during our partnership, on all kinds of things, but ultimately, it's really nice to know that even given the chance to work with someone else, the woman he loves, he'd still pick me.

He's without a doubt the best friend I've ever had.

Of course, that didn't stop me from teasing him once we got in the car.

"You were going to say wife, weren't you?" I said, referring to how he'd stumbled over giving Lauren a specific designation.

"What? No."

"You wanted to."

"Girlfriend just doesn't seem like a strong enough word," he conceded. "People use that too often. She's so much more than that."

"Get through the trial and then fix the problem," I told him.

I didn't wait for a response from him. I wasn't really expecting one anyway. Instead, I started the car and then looked at Marco in the rearview mirror.

"I know you're going with us voluntarily, but it's standard procedure to advise you of your rights, okay? You're not under arrest, but it's still important."

"Okay," he agreed hesitantly, so I fell quiet while Bernard went through the Miranda warning.

"So is Christina okay?" Marco asked after Bernard finished. "You said that I might be able to help her."

"Right now she's in a little bit of trouble. When was the last time you saw her?"

"A few weeks ago. She said I wouldn't be able to see her for a while, but that once everything was over, we would be together."

"Everything. Like what? Was she specific?"

"She said that…you know, I'm not sure I should talk to you guys. Do I need a lawyer?"

"Getting a lawyer might make it look like you're guilty of something. Are you, Marco? Are you guilty of something?"

"Where's Christina?" he asked suspiciously. "I want to see her."

"I'm afraid that's not possible."

"Then stop the car and let me out. I changed my mind."

"I'm on the expressway," I said casually as I looked at Bernard in concern. "I can't just stop the car."

"This is kidnapping," he said as his voice began to sound panicked. "Let me out of the car!"

"It's still your turn," I muttered to Bernard as I pulled over onto the shoulder.

He unbuckled and got out of the car so that he could open the back door for Marco, who was ready to bolt.

His sudden anxiety would play in our favor, though, and Bernard worked it perfectly.

"Hang on," he said to Marco, putting a hand on his shoulder as he reached for a business card. But he barely got his hand into his pocket before Marco whirled around and hit him, his fist catching Bernard right on the jaw.

"Whoa, hey!" I shouted as I hopped out of the car and hustled around to the other side. "You took a swing at my partner? Dumb move, Marco. Now you don't have a choice about coming with us."

I grabbed him by the arms and turned him around, slamming his face down onto the trunk of the car, and then I roughly put on the handcuffs.

"This was a setup!" he yelled.

"I didn't make you hit me," Bernard countered. "You did that all by yourself."

I shoved Marco into the backseat and slammed the door closed and then turned to look at my partner.

"Are you okay?"

"Just great," he muttered as he rubbed his hand over his jaw.

"We'll get you an ice pack when we get back to 1PP," I told him with a smirk. "And I take back what I said earlier. I guess you don't have a glass jaw. You didn't even go down."

"You mean like you did when Connie hit you?"

"Hey, she hits hard," I said on a laugh as I walked back around to the driver's side. "So are you ready to get this guy in the box or what?"

"Oh yeah," he agreed as he flashed me a grin. "And Lupes…_now_ it's your turn."

TBC...


	80. Chapter 80

**Jeremy POV**

* * *

><p>"Where are you?"<p>

"Dude, I'm in my new place, right? It's so fucking cool."

"I'm coming to pick you up."

"Why? I'm with the ten."

"_Because_, man. Hayes and Eames are on a stake-out. The blackmailers called this morning and requested a money drop, so it's just a matter of time. I need to get up there."

I'd checked in with my dad a few minutes ago, and he'd brought me up to speed. I love how he's trying so hard these days to treat me like an adult. I know it's not easy for him, but he's making the effort.

"And they said it's cool?" Mulder asked me.

"Well, not exactly, but…"

"I can't blow this, J. If she gets pissed at me and yanks the crib, I'll be turtling, you know what I'm saying?"

I took a minute to breathe while I thought about my options.

Aaron had just left, headed to the morgue at Liz's request.

I was slightly jealous that she'd invited him and not me, but then he told me that he'd asked her about working there.

"_I'm thinking forensic science might be the way to go,"_ he admitted.

"_You don't want to be a detective anymore?"_

"_I'm not sure, but I know I'm digging the science thing right now, and maybe spending the summer around the morgue and the lab will help give me a better idea about what I want to do."_

I couldn't argue with that logic.

In fact, I'm pretty impressed with my little brother for having such a good head on his shoulders.

"_Are we cool? Because I can tell Liz no if you want…"_

"_We're cool,"_ I promised. _"Go."_

Because really, I like hanging out in the morgue for the company, not the atmosphere. If Aaron's going to get something out of it, then he needs to be the one to do it.

I'll stick with 1PP.

"I'll call and ask her," I said to Mulder.

"Sweet, then hit my digits."

I hung up with Mulder and then hesitated for a minute before calling Hayes because I knew she was going to say no, but I can't help it. I want to be there. I thought we were going to arrest those jerk-offs yesterday, and the fact that it got delayed until today shouldn't mean that I wasn't going to get to see it, right?

"Hayes," she answered.

"It's Jeremy," I told her.

"No."

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask."

"Yes, I do. And the answer is no."

"Come on, Hayes," I begged shamelessly. "I know you're staking out the location of the money drop. Just tell me where it is. I only want to watch, I promise."

"By the time you get here, it'll all be over."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Jeremy, this isn't a game. It's serious police business."

"I'm not a kid. I'm almost twenty years old, and in three years, I'm going to be entering the academy…"

"If the chief approves it, then okay. Otherwise, I'm sorry, but no."

I can't really blame her.

She just got the bump into Major Case, and if I'm honest about it, I've probably been taking advantage of the fact that she's usually so nice to me, so…

"Okay. I'll see you soon."

"Jeremy, I'm not kidding. If you show up and it hasn't been okayed, I'll arrest you for hampering an investigation."

There were so many ways I wanted to respond to that.

_Will you be the one to put on the handcuffs?_

_Are you going to frisk me?_

_Will you get rough with me if I resist?_

And then I figured that my current two black eyes and sore nose would be nothing compared to what Detective Bernard would do to me if I got busted flirting with his girlfriend.

And even though Mulder's more than right to call her a ten, she probably _is_ a little old for me, so…

"I'll get permission," I replied.

I hated calling my dad back since I knew he was busy this morning. There was that shooting on the front steps, and I think things were coming to a head the Albanian mafia case.

But I also didn't want to miss out on Tessa getting arrested.

I mean, she's been harassing Liz all week, causing trouble between her and my dad…the bitch needs to pay for what she's done.

So I sent my dad a text.

_**I really want to see this case through. Can I sit in on the stake-out if I promise to stay out of the way?**_

While I waited for his response, I scooped up the blankets that Mulder had left folded on one end of the couch, and I put them back in the hall closet.

Then I went into the kitchen and rinsed out the breakfast dishes before putting them in the dishwasher.

I'm not normally so committed to housework, but I want to show my dad and Liz how much I appreciate them letting me live here.

I mean, they don't have to, and yet they've been so cool about everything. I guess after listening to Mulder talk a little about his parents, it makes me realize how lucky I am.

It seems like in Mulder's house, they all just co-exist with very little interaction.

In this house, it's all about togetherness.

My dad was up at five-thirty this morning just because Liz had somewhere to be, and I've seen her do the same thing when he was the one who needed to get an early start on the day.

And don't get me started on Mulder's lack of socialization.

The guy needs to get laid some kind of bad.

And maybe I jumped the gun on having a sex life, but he's definitely at the other end of the spectrum.

I mean, really. Who waits until they're twenty-four?

"_J, the hoochie at the club was throwing it at him_," Aaron said to me last night after Dad and Liz went up to bed. "_And he didn't jump on it."_

"_I didn't know…I mean, I thought…"_

"_It's cool, Mulder,"_ I told him as I chucked my brother. "_She was probably an antibiotic waiting to happen anyway."_

"_Yeah, but she was smokin'_," Aaron insisted.

"_Six, tops_," Mulder replied.

"_Oh, like you'd know a ten if you saw one."_

"_Seriously, dude?" _Mulder asked with a grin._ "Shit, J, he hasn't met them?"_

"_Met who?"_

"_Mulder's got the hots for a couple of the women Dad hangs out with." _

"_Our dad? Hangs out with tens?"_

"_Straight up, man, I'm telling you_," Mulder answered.

"_You remember Detective Eames, right?"_ I reminded him.

"_Oh yeah. She's still blazin'?"_

"_Who?" _Mulder asked as I answered Aaron by saying, "_Even better."_

Then I explained to Mulder, "_Alex Goren. She used to be Eames until she married her partner."_

"_Yeah, I can see why she'd do it for you. I mean, she's…yeah. But she's not who I meant."_

"_Oh, I know who you meant,"_ I responded, since his adoration of Connie was common knowledge, in addition to his crush on Hayes. And I sure as hell don't blame him for lusting after either of them. "_But they're both taken, so…"_

"_Doesn't mean I can't try to replicate the matrix, you know what I'm saying?"_

"_So wait, Dad hangs with chicks hotter than Eames?"_

"_You should've come into Steve-O's,"_ Mulder said. "_It's a table of tens."_

"_But,_" I said loudly in an effort to interrupt Aaron and Mulder's Q&A session concerning specific attributes. "_It's not just about looks."_

"_Since when?"_ Aaron asked while Mulder just stared at me expectantly.

"_Since…well, since there are more important things than getting laid."_

"_Dude, you're delirious,"_ Aaron said. "_When was the last time you got some?"_

"_Since Kelly," _I reminded him quietly, and he instantly looked contrite.

"_Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"_

"_It's okay. I'm just saying…I've learned a lot over the past couple of weeks, and…" _I trailed off when I realized how cheesy I was going to sound if I started spouting off about how finding an emotional connection was just as important as a physical one.

"_And?_" Mulder asked me.

"_And nothing. But I'll tell you this…if it weren't for Bernard, I'd be all over Hayes in a second_."

And thus started round two of the in-depth discussion of each of the women in the so-called group.

Any one of them would probably kill all three of us if they could hear the things we said, but it was fun and it was harmless enough, and honestly, I thought it was good for Mulder.

I can't help it. He might be older, but to me, he's like Aaron, only younger.

"_So what do you think about Mary_?" I asked him. "_She's pretty hot, right?"_

"_She scares me,"_ he admitted.

"_Yeah, she could chew you up and spit you out_," I agreed on a laugh.

"_Me? You, too."_

"_Probably,"_ I conceded. _"But damn, she's got a nice ass._"

"_You guys realize you're talking about women old enough to be your mothers, right?_" Aaron pointed out.

"_Not __**my**__ mother_," Mulder said.

"_**Barely**__ my mother_," I added. "_And A, I'm telling you…meet some of these women and it'll change your whole perspective. Those high school chicks you're drooling after will seem like amateur hour_."

"_Dude, I'm __**in**__ high school_," he said on a laugh.

"_Yeah, you're right. Stick with the kiddies. Me and Mulder will score the women_."

Of course, I didn't mean we'd score with the women we've met so far, but I definitely think they've collectively raised the bar for us, as far as expectations go.

My phone buzzed as I was moving a load of clothes from the washer into the dryer, so I finished shoving the laundry inside, and then turned it on before pulling my phone out of my pocket.

_**If Eames and Hayes say yes, then okay. But get it out of your system, because after this case, you're tied to the squad room.**_

"Oh my God, he fucking rocks," I mumbled excitedly as I typed in a quick reply.

_**You're the bomb. Dinner tonight – all four of us. I'll cook.**_

After I sent the text, I called Mulder's number.

"Dude, we're in. Hop the C train at Jay Street and meet me at 168th."

"I'm bailing, J."

"You're not coming?"

"The ten said she'd drive me to the homestead and let me pick up some shit."

"You're moving in today?" I asked in surprise. "Doesn't Hayes still have all of her stuff there?"

"Yeah, but she's arctic, man. And it's not like I've got anything but clothes. Well, and a few Apples and big irons…some clones and a couple cows, although don't tell anyone that because I'll never admit to it…oh, and some heads and other jumbles for hot swapping…"

"I got it," I said on a laugh. "So you'll have boxes full of computer equipment and a knapsack with a change of clothes?"

"Something like that. But _dude_," he said emphatically, and I could feel his excitement over the phone. "It's my own digs, right?"

"Right."

"So…you and A can hang with me, tonight, right? We can break in the place, Mulder style."

"And exactly what style is that?" I teased.

"I'm not sure yet, but we'll figure it out."

"Sounds good. Oh, after dinner. I'm going to cook for the rents, but then we'll come over."

"Cool. So you're going up to nab the poser?"

"That's the plan. I'll let you know how it works out."

I hung up with Mulder and left the house in a hurry, headed for the subway station.

It took me almost thirty minutes, but I finally came up top at 168th, and then I went into Jou Jou café and called Hayes.

"Hayes."

"Your backup has arrived."

"Are you kidding me? Where are you?"

"I'm blending with the college crowd," I told her. "It's amazing how easily I pull off the academic look."

"Ha ha. So it's just you? Where's your sidekick?"

"You tempted him with the lure of your apartment, I guess. He said Connie was going to drive him to Secaucus."

"Oh. Okay. And Aaron?"

"He's at the morgue with Liz. It's just me."

"And the chief said yes?"

"Yeah, but this is it, so we have to make it good."

"No, you mean we have to keep you out of the way while we make an arrest."

"I won't get in your way. So you're set up in the park?"

"Yeah, the order said to make the drop by noon, so I don't think they'll be around before then. In fact, they're probably lurking around campus somewhere because we've got a uniform sitting on the apartment and they haven't gone back there."

"What can I do?"

"Seriously? Jeremy, I…"

"Oh, shit."

"What?"

"They're in here," I said as I dropped my voice to a whisper and turned my back to the room.

"Tessa and Kyle? Where's _here_?"

"Jou Jou café, right on 168th. Yeah, they're at the counter ordering coffee."

"Shit," she muttered, and then I waited while she relayed the latest to her partner. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but when she came back on, she asked, "Have they seen you?"

"No. They look pretty…absorbed with each other. She's hanging all over him."

"She's probably trying to make him forget that she was hanging on you yesterday."

"What can I say? I make women do crazy things."

"Uh huh. Let's see if we can avoid any craziness today, okay?" she posed, and I'm not sure but it sounded like I heard a car door.

"Sounds good to me," I agreed. "And hey, I took precautions. I'm wearing my aviators and a Yankees hat."

"Okay," she said thoughtfully. "Okay, so just sit tight and keep an eye on them."

"And if they leave?"

"We want them to go for the money so that we can catch them in the act. I'm headed your way now. Eames is going to stay here and watch the money. Don't move until I get there."

She hung up and I did my best to surreptitiously watch Tessa and Kyle via their reflection in the coffee shop window.

It was a busy place this morning, although I suppose that makes sense It's eleven o'clock on a Saturday morning on a college campus…everyone was probably in here looking for a hangover cure. Especially since the students still hanging around were most likely in the middle of finals crunch, and it's always nice to blow off a little steam on Friday night…

That thought had me walking down memory lane for a moment.

Not so long ago, I'd been the one partying every weekend. God, it felt like forever ago. Like another life. The drugs, Kelly, the frat houses…

"Jeez, it's slammed in here. Can I share your table?"

I looked up when I realized that the feminine voice was directed at me, and then I did a double take.

"Um…yeah, sure," I said.

I scooted over on the tiny bench seat that was really only meant for one person so that Hayes could sit down next to me.

And I swear, if I didn't _know_ it was her…

She was wearing denim shorts and a Columbia hoodie, along with a CU cap underneath which she must have shoved all of her hair. She had a backpack slung over one shoulder and her phone in her hand, as though she was preparing to send a text at any second.

And did I mention the shorts? And that they're short? I was grateful for my aviators, which kept her from seeing that I was having trouble tearing my eyes away her legs.

"Damn, and I thought _I _was pulling off the coed look," I said under my breath, and then I almost quit breathing altogether as she propped her chin on her hand, with her elbow resting on the table, and then proceeded to gaze at me like she was enamored.

"You're not pulling off anything if you don't start acting a little more casual," she said with a smile. "And quit staring at my legs."

"I'm not," I said defensively. "I mean…sorry. I just wasn't expecting to see you in anything other than your usual detective get-up."

"We're staking out a park across from a college campus…how else did you expect me to blend in?"

"Where'd you get the sweatshirt?"

"I bought it a few hours ago," she replied casually. She reached out and touched the collar of my shirt in a flirtatious manner, and then leaned in even closer and held out her phone. "Pretend like you're looking at something on here."

So I blindly stared at the screen and ignored the fact that she smells like…what is that? I don't know but if my nose stops working today and I never smell another smell, I'll be fine with it, because she just smells like heaven.

How does Bernard get any work done when she's around? I mean, seriously. He has permission to touch her, so how does he ever _stop_?

And yeah, it's quite possible that I'm a little obsessed since it's been awhile for me.

Maybe _I_ should've hit up the slutty blonde last night, just to get it out of my system.

"There we go. Perfect," Hayes said quietly.

"What?"

"Jeremy…"

"What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"The _phone_," she said firmly. "Mulder hooked me up."

"Oh. _Oh_," I said again as I realized what she meant.

The security camera feed.

It was routed into her phone.

"How did he do that? He's on his way to Jersey."

"I called him while I walked over here, and…I don't know. I guess he did it using Connie's laptop that she had in her briefcase in the car. So now we can go outside and watch from out there."

But as she said the words, Tessa and Kyle were finally served their coffees, and then they took the table nearest the door.

"Or," she continued in annoyance. "We stay right here until they leave, because I don't want to risk having to walk right past them. Shit."

"At least we don't have to look directly at them, though. And this place is crowded, so it's unlikely that they'll pick us out."

"True. Okay, well…now we get to sit and wait."

So for an hour, I sat cozied up to Hayes as we talked and watched the images on her phone.

And about twenty minutes into the operation, I realized something that I should've realized before now.

There's so much more to her than just her looks.

I almost preached to Mulder and Aaron last night about not being so shallow, and yet isn't that exactly what I've been doing with Hayes?

And with Alex, too, because I'd be lying if I said I haven't fantasized about her a time or two since our reunion a few weeks ago.

"Get out your phone," she said to me, and her tone was different. It was crisp and businesslike and I immediately followed her instructions. "They're getting ready to go. Text Eames and let him know."

I sent the text and then continued to watch the security footage until Tessa and Kyle got up from their table and moved towards the door.

"Are we going?" I asked anxiously.

"We need to give it a minute. If they look at us too closely…"

She trailed off, but I knew what she meant. She didn't want anything to screw up this bust, because if they got spooked, they might get away.

We gave it to the count of thirty and then we left the coffee shop. We had the benefit of knowing which way they were going, so it didn't take too long to spot them up ahead of us.

She called Eames and kept him apprised of our progress, and once we were within fifty yards of the drop point, she gestured at a park bench.

"This is the end of the road for you."

"But…"

"Don't argue. Sit."

So I sat.

And I watched.

I watched as Tessa approached the bench with the duffle bag beneath it while Kyle hung back slightly and looked around.

I couldn't see Eames, and I was curious as to where he was hiding, but I didn't have to wonder for long.

"NYPD!" he shouted just as Tessa slipped the strap of the bag over her shoulder. He popped up from behind a small row of bushes and at the same time, Hayes dropped her backpack and pulled her weapon from…somewhere.

"Don't even think about it, Kyle," she yelled, blocking his path as he started to ditch Tessa.

Eames ordered Tessa to drop the bag and get down onto the ground, and while he was occupied with her, that's when Kyle decided to make his move on Hayes.

She'd been close to him, getting ready to put on the handcuffs, and he bull-rushed her.

_Holy shit_, I thought as she went down to her knees.

I hopped up at the same time that Eames got to his feet and pointed his weapon at Kyle, who was now running headlong directly towards me.

"Stop!" Eames called out, and then Hayes was up and running after him, and I wasn't sure exactly what to do because I was in the line of fire, so Eames couldn't shoot, but I was also in Kyle's path and I might be able to slow him down, so I did the only thing I could think of.

I dove at his feet.

I figured it might trip him up and at the very least, it would give Eames the clear shot he needed.

But as it turned out, he didn't need to shoot.

Kyle's foot caught on my side and he went down like a five-dollar hooker on a man with a fistful of Lincolns.

I stayed down as Hayes vaulted over me and then threw herself onto the back of Kyle.

After that, it was back to basics.

Suspects were cuffed.

Rights were read.

Both perps were tossed into the back of Eames and Hayes' nearby car.

"It doesn't get much better than that," Eames said after slamming the back door closed. Then he glanced at his partner's bloody knees and asked, "Hey, you okay?"

"I'm fine. I should've expected him to do that," she replied. Then she turned to me and said, "You know I would've caught him."

"I know."

"But…nice work, Jeremy," she finished with a grin.

She held out her fist and I popped it with mine, and then I was surprised to see Eames hold up his as well.

"You know, I thought I was going to have to shoot you for a minute there. And I'm not sure, but I think it might've messed up my promotion, so…"

"Probably, yeah," I agreed.

"Clutch chop block, J-man," he praised as he tossed Hayes the keys. "You coming back to watch us in the box?"

"You're going to get them to confess?"

"Well, yeah," Hayes said. "I don't know about you, but I want to find out why the hell they were targeting Liz, and what, if anything, Cecilia Chambers knows about it, and I'd love to know if they've done this kind of thing before."

"I'm in," I agreed quickly.

Eames opened the passenger-side front door and said, "Get in. It'll be a squeeze, but no sense in sending you back on the subway, right, Hayes?"

"It's his last case. Let's wrap it up right."

TBC...


	81. Chapter 81

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>The bridge into Manhattan was a parking lot.<p>

"I should've taken the Midtown Tunnel," I muttered as I finally acquiesced and put the car into park.

"Who knew?" Bobby replied good-naturedly, and I glanced over at him in curiosity.

"You're saying it's not bothering you that we're stuck in the traffic jam from hell?"

"We don't have a suspect in the car. I don't have to pee. And I'm with you. How bad can it be?"

"I'm glad I rank up there with your bodily functions," I remarked with a smirk.

"Oxygen, sustenance, and Alex. That's all I need."

"You're feeling rather sanguine today, huh? Are you sure your head is alright?"

"All the hamsters are up and accounted for," he answered. "But yeah, I'll admit it. I'm a little anxious to get back to 1PP to see what Christina has to say for herself."

"It sure would be nice if we had some hard proof to back up this daughter theory, because you know she's not going to want to admit it."

"No," he said thoughtfully. "She's been keeping that ace up her sleeve. You think it's just to smooth the way into Witsec? I mean, would the US Attorney have been as willing to cut her a deal if he knew she was Brozi's kid?"

"I think she's more worried about keeping it a secret from Demachi and Rama."

"It would keep them from trying to kill her," he pointed out. "They'd never take her out if they knew."

"And they also wouldn't keep fighting each other for the old man's nod. You heard Brozi. He told her that she didn't have what it takes to run a criminal enterprise, but he loves the idea of it, and she's showing him that she _does_ have what it takes by systematically taking out the competition."

"So that's been her goal all along, for Demachi and Rama to destroy each other. And all the while, she's been making nice with the foot soldiers, and earning their respect. They see what's happening, and they're all going to jump to any ship that isn't sinking."

"And how does Marco figure into this?"

"I'm not sure. I'll be curious to hear what Lupo and Bernard get from him."

Bobby's phone started buzzing, so we tabled our discussion while he pulled it out and checked the display.

"It's Mike," he told me as he pushed the button. "Goren."

I was glad that Mike was calling because in all honestly, I'm a little worried about him.

He's been sick…he's just learned the identity of his real father…his case and ours have got him knee-deep in mafia men…and now this shooting today where his brother was targeted because the killers thought he was Mike.

His guilt complex was going to have a field day with that one.

"You know that's not true," I heard Bobby say. "Mike…no. No…you can't…no."

"Give me the phone," I said as I held out my hand.

It's not like the traffic was going to clear up any time soon, so I may as well help get Mike's head out of his ass.

Bobby glanced at me skeptically for a moment, but then he handed it over.

"What's going on?" I asked Mike.

"I'm thinking about setting some kind of trap for these guys."

"For the Albanians? I don't think we need to do that. We're getting close."

"Yeah, but…Alex."

"It's not your fault that they shot at John. And he's fine," I reminded him.

"How can you say it's not my fault? The hit was for me."

"Because of me," I pointed out. "So should I be feeling guilty, too?"

Although, I do. Not so much about what happened this morning because that was just the mobsters being idiots, but because the hit's there at all.

"And," I continued. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but if it weren't for you and your Irish guardian angels, things would've turned out differently. John and Cutter might've both been killed."

"But…"

"We're all in this together. You have to stop feeling responsible for everything that goes wrong," I told him while I eyeballed Bobby, because I was almost having flashbacks to conversations I used to have with him.

"John's not a cop."

"No, and maybe we should've thought about the idea that the bad guys might confuse him for you, but we didn't. None of us did, not just you, so if it's an oversight, then it's on all of us. Mary walked him right up to the doorstep of 1PP, and she knows about the hit, but she didn't think about that possibility either. You want to blame her for this?"

"No, of course not."

"Then quit blaming yourself," I said firmly. "Tell me how it went with Puccio. Did he confess?"

He sighed heavily, and I thought he was going to continue arguing with me about it, but he didn't.

"We've got evidence falling out of our ass," he said. "We didn't need a confession."

"But?"

"But yeah, we got one," he answered, and it sounded like maybe he was smiling.

"Good. Have you talked to my dad today?"

"We're meeting him for lunch in about fifteen minutes. O'Connor's got a new crew ready to tag along, and after he heard about what happened this morning, he offered to put one on John, too."

"Your dad inspired loyalty in his friends," I remarked thoughtfully. "The idea that O'Connor's so eager to help you, even after O'Grady's death…that really means something, Mike. Lifelong friendships are rare, and it requires respect and trust from both parties."

"I know what it means to have lifelong friends," he replied quietly.

"Yes, you do," I agreed. "Tell my dad hello, okay? And don't mention anything about Sean getting into Major Case. I'm not sure if he's had a chance to talk to him yet."

"My lips are sealed," he agreed. "Now, if you're done bitching at me, can you put Bobby back on the phone?"

"Sure," I said on a laugh. "And Mike…"

"I know."

I handed the phone to Bobby and only half-listened as he finished up the conversation.

"So how come he listened to you and not me?" Bobby asked after ending his call with Mike.

"Because I'm a professional when it comes to dealing with guilt," I said with a smirk. "And sometimes you're too nice."

"Huh," he responded thoughtfully.

"But don't think that he doesn't still need you," I added. "After he talks to Dad and gets more scoop on _his_ dad…you know, maybe the two of you should plan on going out for a beer tonight."

"He seems to be taking it in stride."

"Yeah, he does. And that worries me a little. I think you should get inside of his head and make sure everything's alright."

"You mean, check on the status of his hamsters?" he asked with a grin.

"Something like that."

I looked ahead at the traffic again, which still hadn't budged an inch. I couldn't see the cause of the hold-up, but if I had to guess, I'd say there was probably an accident somewhere on the other side.

And then I realized something.

_I think there's enough room for me to get out of this mess._

"Get out the cherry," I told Bobby as I put the car in gear.

"You're going around?" he asked, digging into the glove box as he followed my gaze towards the empty shoulder of the road.

There wasn't much of one on the bridge, but we'd fit.

Barely.

"Would you rather sit here all day?"

"Maybe. I mean, we didn't join the mile high club, but surely there's a Williamsburg Bridge club we could become members of."

"You want to have sex in the car while stuck in traffic when we could be on our way back to 1PP where we plan to get the truth out of Christina?" I asked incredulously, ignoring the little jolt of pleasure I got simply from his suggestion.

"Okay, so…let's break our suspect first," he conceded with a grin. "_Then_ we'll have sex."

"You sound anxious. Are you having memory lapses again?" I teased as I eased the car out of the line and over onto the shoulder before flipping on the siren and stepping on the gas.

"I'm just in withdrawals. It's been twelve hours. And you're a woman who needs to be sampled at least every ten."

I had several ready responses, but considering the fact that I was driving a six-foot wide vehicle through a seven-foot wide space at roughly fifty miles per hour, I decided it would be best if I devoted my full concentration to the task at hand.

Twenty minutes later, I pulled the SUV into the parking garage, and five minutes after that, we were in the elevator, headed for the eleventh floor.

"Do you think that Bailey's here yet?"

"He should be. It's after twelve."

"I wonder what he's going to think about Mary flipping his case."

"He should be more concerned about what Mary's going to do to him. This whole thing was botched from the very beginning. She really walked into the fire on this one, didn't she? I mean, this is her first case as the boss and it's a disaster."

"Maybe the old boss saw it coming," Bobby suggested. "She did say that he was on a cruise ship before she even checked in at the office."

"Or maybe that just explains why the preliminary work was shoddy. He had one foot out the door and was tired of dealing with witnesses. But what about Mary's team? I would've expected better."

"According to the file, the initial interviews were all handled by Inspector Holly…and well, it's hard to say about her, but I'm guessing Christina snowed her just by being her friend. It can be a lonely job sometimes, and it's easy to feel empathy for a person who you think was only caught up in a bad situation."

"That's true. I mean, I found Christina annoying, but I never pegged her as wanting to take Brozi's position," I admitted.

"Well, whatever the case, we're going to make sure that doesn't happen. She needs to be held responsible for everything that's happened. And we need to get eyes on Demachi and Rama."

"Uh huh. It's time to stop dicking around and bring those two guys in."

"They've gone underground," McInnis said when I reiterated my statement to the others in the conference room. "And no one's talking."

"No one on the street?" Bobby asked. "What about Longley? Or Aman?"

"He's right," Mary said. "If the Christina theory is accurate, and she's been recruiting underlings to follow her, then they'll be willing to give up the lieutenants. And that's the only explanation I have for why one of Rama's men would relay information to Demachi's men."

"Are we sure that's what happened?"

"There's no other way that Demachi would have Logan's name," I asserted. "And the guy who killed himself to avoid being arrested…I think he was afraid that if people started talking, and it got out that his loyalty wasn't to Demachi, then he was going to die a slow and painful death."

"Is Bailey here?" Bobby asked Mary. "Because I really need to talk to Christina. Otherwise we're basing our course of action on supposition."

"Yeah, but it's _your_ supposition," Mary pointed out with a smile. "But yeah, he's here. He got here about fifteen minutes ago. He and the drama queen are in Interrogation Three. He said he'd let us know when they're ready."

"How thoughtful of him," I mumbled. "So what's the deal with the shooters from this morning?"

"The two Irishmen might be in the clear. They actually have permits to carry concealed weapons, and since they only fired in the defense of others, well…Cutter seems to think he can sell the absence of malicious wounding charges."

"And the Albanians?"

"They've both been processed on charges of attempted murder, discharging a firearm, conspiring to commit murder for hire…they won't be seeing daylight any time soon."

"Did you offer them a deal?" Bobby asked her.

"For what? They shot at John. And the Manhattan EADA. You think they're going to walk?"

"I'm wondering if they know where Demachi is hiding. Have they lawyered up?"

"From the get-go," Daniels stated as the conference room door came open. It was Jennifer, and she was carrying a cardboard tray full of coffee cups.

"Okay, so…where are we?" she asked as she set the tray on the table.

"Lupo and Bernard should be here any minute with Marco Sterescu," Mary began. "Christina's still with Bailey. We need to bring the hammer down on Demachi and Rama, but they're both in the wind. Bobby wants to throw a deal at Kadare or Noli to try to get Demachi's whereabouts."

"Not a real deal," Bobby clarified. "But it won't hurt to let him think he's getting one. Do they both have public defenders?"

"Uh huh," McInnis said with a nod.

"So you've got a fifty-fifty shot that one of them is incompetent," I remarked. "You want to take a run?"

"I want to get Demachi in a room, so…yeah. Which one was the least hurt?" he asked.

"Noli."

"Okay, then I'll have them put Kadare in a room," Bobby said with a nod as he pulled out his phone. He punched in a number and then looked at me and smiled and said, "Feel like playing a little sane cop – crazy cop?"

TBC...


	82. Chapter 82

**Ross POV**

* * *

><p>I was busy for most of the morning, dealing with the aftermath of the second shooting in as many days.<p>

But that doesn't mean that my mind wasn't on Liz.

I was really glad that she called me when she left Ricky's apartment because I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried about her.

And not that I thought something would happen, because despite my recent slip-up, I _do_ trust her.

But still…wandering down the path of yesteryear isn't always a good thing, and I also don't know this Ricky character.

How was he going to react when she paid him back the money?

I mean, he's a convicted felon.

Would he try to hit her up for more?

But then she called me and said it went fine and that she was on her way back.

She didn't offer up much along the lines of details, but I figured she'd tell me more once we were face to face.

_And_ when I wasn't in the middle of a mess that was going to send me back to the commissioner's office.

At the rate I was going, I wouldn't have any ass left by Monday.

But I tried to keep my mind right.

And I was glad that things were coming to a head with the blackmailers.

So glad, in fact, that when Jeremy called to check in, I let him know what was going on. I can understand how he feels like he has a stake in the case, and I'll admit to feeling a little bit of pride in him for how he handled the situation yesterday.

I half-expected him to ask if he could be involved in the stake-out, but he didn't.

Or at least, not at first.

Halfway through my meeting with the commissioner, I felt my phone buzz, and I figured there was a good chance it was him.

I couldn't check it until the meeting was over, but when I did, I saw that I wasn't wrong.

And I decided to allow him just a little bit of leeway because what would it hurt for him to sit in the car and watch?

His responding text had me grinning from ear to ear because it's not often that I'm referred to as _the bomb_.

In fact, I think that was the first time ever.

I started to call Hayes to give her a heads-up, but as I dialed her number, my phone started ringing.

It was Aaron.

"Are you creeped out already?" I asked him, knowing that he was feeling out the morgue this morning.

"You might want to come down here. I mean, if you can," he said quietly.

"What's wrong?" I asked, instantly on alert.

"I don't know, but…something."

"Are you okay? Is Liz okay?" I questioned as I made a beeline for the elevator.

"I'm fine, Dad. And Liz is…she's just…really upset."

I won't say it was my fastest trip to the morgue, but it was in the top five.

Aaron met me in the hall outside of the autopsy suite.

"What's going on?"

"She's in her office. When I got here, this woman was in there with her, so I left them alone because I figured it was business or something, and then the woman started yelling at Liz, and then she stormed out."

"Did you ask her about it?"

"Yeah, but she just said for me to close the door and give her a minute, but Dad…that was like twenty minutes ago. What's going on? Who was that woman?"

Tessa the blackmailer?

Unlikely.

I'd agreed to her terms, so she should be in the vicinity of Washington Heights, waiting on the money drop.

And there's no one who works in this office who would be yelling at Liz. At least not without it being a two-way street.

Which left Cecilia.

Had she actually come here, into the morgue to confront Liz?

I realized that Aaron was watching me expectantly, but he doesn't know much about what's been going on lately with Liz.

It's not that we were trying to keep it a secret from him, but since he hasn't been here...it's just not something you call and tell him over the phone.

_Oh, by the way, your stepmother is being blackmailed because someone thinks she had a baby that she gave up for adoption, but she really only conspired to falsify an official document by loaning her old ID to her knocked-up roommate._

No, some things were best left to be dealt with in person, only we hadn't gotten around to it yet.

"I have an idea, but I'll have to give you details later," I promised. "Give me a few minutes to talk to her first, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," he agreed with a nod.

I went into the autopsy suite and crossed the room to her office. The blinds were open, and I could see her sitting at her desk. She was leaning back and staring up at the ceiling.

I opened the door and went inside.

"Danny," she said in surprise as she got up from her chair. She brushed her hair back from her face and took a deep breath and then said, "Aaron called you."

"He said something was wrong."

"I'm fine," she insisted. "You didn't need to waste the trip."

"It's never a waste, getting to see you in the middle of the workday."

She smiled and ducked her head, but then when she looked up at me again, her eyes were shiny with unshed tears.

"Cecilia came here."

"I suspected as much. Tell me what happened."

"Nothing. It's fine."

"But you're upset."

"I'm upset because she's upset. She came here thinking that she'd found her mother after all these years, and I…I couldn't lie. I wanted to, Danny, I really did, but I couldn't. I had to tell her that it's not me."

"You did the right thing," I said soothingly as I pulled her into my arms.

"Are you sure? Because right now she thinks I'm a liar. She thinks that I'm so opposed to having anything to do with her that I'm lying about her not being mine. You know, I didn't even consider that she wouldn't believe me."

"She'll come around. I'm sure your denial was something she didn't expect. It's going to take some time for her to absorb it."

"But she's hurting…and it's not fair to her. She must've spent all week getting up the nerve to approach me, and now…she's back to square one, and not only have I disappointed her, but I also can't help her learn the truth, even though I know what that truth is."

She's right. It's not fair.

But I don't know what to say.

"She's seemed so…hopeful," she continued. "Like she didn't resent me for my choice. Or I mean, what she _thought_ was my choice. As hard a life as I know she's had and yet she just stood there and told me her name and then waited to see whether or not I'd accept her. And then I didn't."

"You know you had to tell her the truth."

"I know. I guess maybe…I don't know. I almost wish that…you know. That she was mine."

"Liz…"

"I know it's a crazy thing to say, because if she were mine, I don't think I would've been able to give her up in the first place, and so everything in my life would be completely different, and you know I never really wanted kids. I mean, other than yours. You know I love those boys."

"I know you do."

"It's just that now…seeing her as she is…it makes me wish I could give her some of what she's looking for. I wouldn't have been good at raising a toddler, but offering parental support and guidance to a young adult…I think I'd be good at that."

"You _are_ good at that," I reminded her. "You do it every day. And there's nothing to say that you can't be a friend or mentor to Cecilia."

"She left me her number," she replied quietly. "She told me to call her when I'm ready to face reality."

"So you're going to call?"

"After I figure out what to say, yes."

"You just need to sit down with her and tell her the whole story," I said reasonably. "Your response caught her by surprise, but after some time, maybe she'll be ready to listen."

She took another deep breath and then finally stepped away from me and gave me a smile.

"Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

"For rushing over here, and for listening..."

"It's in my job description," I deflected.

She dropped her gaze to the floor briefly before returning it to mine and stating, "Ricky kissed me this morning."

"He…he what?" I asked, her change in topic and the words themselves throwing me completely off balance.

"He wanted to convince me that there's still something between us."

"Oh."

"Yeah," she said uneasily. "I'm sorry. I should've seen it coming, but I didn't."

My mind was scrambling to think of the right response, because Lord knows I screwed it up two days ago when I was unjustly jealous of Logan.

And now to find out that another man had kissed her…a former lover, someone who absolutely warranted a little jealousy...

But as I stood there staring at my wife, it occurred to me that I'm _not_ jealous.

Pissed off, maybe.

At him, not at her.

If it didn't mean a two-hour drive to Jersey, I'd be tempted to beat the snot out of him.

And I'm not completely ruling it out.

But right now, the important thing is Liz.

And I know that for whatever reason, she loves me.

So instead of saying anything that, knowing me, might come out wrong and end up making a mess of things, I took her face in my hands and I kissed her.

I wasn't timid about it, either.

I was proprietary and demanding, and the kiss was intimate and enthusiastic, and I'll admit to getting completely lost in the moment. She grabbed onto the front of my pants, pulling me closer to her as the kiss got even more intense, more passionate.

I stepped into her, causing her to step backwards until her backside was up against the counter. She wrapped her arms around me and as I tried to decide if we could get away with locking her office door and closing the blinds for maybe ten minutes or so, my phone started buzzing, and at the same time, there was a hesitant knock on her door.

"Liz?" Aaron questioned after clearing his throat, and that's when I realized that the door hadn't even been closed. He must have been knocking on the door frame.

I silenced my phone as I backed away quickly and turned towards my son where he stood lingering in the doorway.

"I'm really sorry to interrupt," he continued. "But one of your assistants just called over the intercom and said something about a run? I'm not sure. I said I'd find you."

"Oh, thanks," she responded. "I'll…um…be right out."

Aaron nodded and then looked at me curiously for a second and then he turned around and walked away.

"Why does it feel like we just got caught doing something illicit?" I mumbled as I turned back to Liz.

"Because we were," she replied with a smirk. "This is great. Now both of your sons have busted us."

"At least we're still wearing clothes this time," I pointed out.

"That's true," she agreed, and then she reached out and ran her hand down my tie. "Although if he'd waited a few more minutes…"

"That's what I was thinking, too," I admitted.

"So we're okay?" she asked me. "I mean, that thing with Ricky this morning…"

"It's done. And we're more than okay," I replied. I kissed her once more, but quickly this time, and then I led the way out of her office. "And Cecilia…"

"I'll call her this afternoon," she said.

So I left the morgue as Liz prepared to make a run, on which she was going to let Aaron tag along, and I headed back to the office.

The phone call that I'd missed was from the commissioner, and he'd left a message, summoning me back to his office.

I spent the next hour with him, behind closed doors, prepping him for a press conference. He felt it was important to talk about what happened outside of 1PP this morning, and of course, it was even more important that he go in front of the cameras to assure the public that he was personally taking care of the investigation into the shooting.

It was utterly ridiculous since there was no investigation into the shooting. I mean, we caught the perps red-handed, and we know why they did it, so what was there to investigate?

But whatever. If it makes him happy and keeps him off my back, then he can go on camera and take credit for everything, every day.

It was twelve-thirty when I entered the squad room on the eleventh floor. It was only sparsely populated, so I wandered down the hall to check out the interrogation rooms, and I discovered that that's where the action was.

And I mean serious action.

Lupo and Bernard were talking to a guy.

Alex and Bobby were talking to a guy.

Mary and Jennifer were talking to a guy.

McInnis and Daniels were talking to a guy.

It looked like maybe there was a real possibility for wrapping up this case in a timely manner.

I went into the last observation room, one that looks into two different interrogation rooms, and that's where I found Jeremy.

"I guess Washington Heights was a success," I said when I saw him, and then I glanced through the window to the right.

"It was so awesome," he replied as I looked at a large man who was seated at the table. There was a woman sitting on the edge of the table, with her back to the window.

"This is Kyle?"

"Uh huh."

"Who's that in there with him? Tessa? Why isn't she handcuffed? And where are Eames and Hayes?"

Jeremy looked at me and then flashed me a grin and said, "Dad, that _is_ Hayes. Eames has Tessa over there."

He pointed to the opposite room, but I turned around to look at Hayes again, this time attempting to assimilate the college student-looking woman with my newest addition to Major Case.

In my defense, her face was turned away from me and her hair was under her hat…and I'll swear until my dying day that I didn't even glance at her legs.

"I know, right?" Jeremy mumbled.

"What?" I asked innocently as I reached for the volume on the speaker.

"_**You've got to be the dumbest blackmailer I've ever met,**_" Hayes was saying. "_**You set up the drop in your own neighborhood, in broad daylight? You didn't check out the area before picking up the bag…and don't even get me started on the fact that your target is married to the chief of detectives**_."

"_**It wasn't my idea**_," he replied after a moment. "_**It was all Tessa**_."

"He's throwing her under the bus in a hurry," I remarked, lowering the volume on that speaker as I went over to the other one and turned it up.

"_**This is all a big misunderstanding**_," Tessa said. "_**I thought that bag was mine. I was in the park earlier, and I accidently left my bag on the bench."**_

"_**You're wasting my time, Tessa. We've got you on tape."**_

"_**You've got what on tape?" **_she asked suspiciously.

"_**You, bragging about hacking the SSA, looking up Dr. Rodgers' personal information."**_

"_**So what? You're arresting me for computer crimes? Have at it."**_

"_**No, I'm arresting you for computer crimes **_**and**_** blackmail. And contributing to the delinquency of a minor."**_

I looked over at Jeremy and asked, "I'm guessing you're the minor?"

"Hey, I had to play the game, Dad. And it worked, right?"

"_**He had ID**_," Tessa said firmly. "_**How was I supposed to know it was fake?"**_

I heard Jeremy sigh heavily, and I cast a sideways glance toward him and saw him close his eyes, but I didn't say anything.

Yet.

"_**You're going to argue about that, but not about the blackmail?"**_

"_**No. I'm not saying anything except I want a lawyer."**_

I went back to listening to Hayes again, and she had her guy near tears.

"_**Assault. Blackmail. Resisting arrest…Kyle, it's not looking good for you**_."

"_**Tessa's got an old friend…someone she spent time with in juvie, okay? The chick called her up out of the blue and wanted to reconnect. Turns out she was thinking about looking for her birth mother. A couple of days later, she called and told Tessa that she'd found her, and that she's some hotshot ME**_."

"_**And you couldn't resist thinking about how you might be able to make that work for you, right? I've seen your record. You're no virgin to the con game. How many times have you pulled this blackmail scheme?"**_

"_**I've never...this isn't...I'm telling you, it was Tessa!"**_

"_**Tessa's friend…Cecilia Chambers?"**_

"_**Yeah. How'd you know?"**_

"_**I'm psychic. She doesn't know anything about your little racket, right?"**_

"_**No. She was all boo-hoo about whether or not she should make contact with the lady, like it makes any fucking difference now. The chick's like, thirty, right?"**_

"_**Okay, here's what you're going to do. You're going to write everything down, step by step, exactly what happened. What you did, what Tessa did, everything."**_

"_**And then what? You'll tell the DA to take it easy on me?"**_

"_**That depends on how thorough you are. Don't leave anything out, Kyle."**_

Hayes tossed a notepad and pen across the table, and Kyle quickly got to work.

"Did she get him?" Eames asked as he came into the room. "Because my girl lawyered up."

"He's writing out his confession as we speak," I replied. "You've got CSU going through their apartment?"

"Yes, sir. It should be a slam dunk for the DA."

"Good. Let her call a lawyer and then put her back in lock-up. Once Kyle finishes, you can hand the case over to the district attorney and salvage what's left of the weekend."

"Thank you, sir," he said as he left the room.

"Are you going to text Liz and let her know that her blackmailers are in custody?"  
>Jeremy asked me.<p>

"I will. She went out on a run a little while ago, so she's probably in the middle of an autopsy."

"Aaron gets to watch on his first day," he said, shaking his head. "Man, I'm glad it's him and not me. That just grosses me out."

"You'd better get used to it if you stick with this line of work," I said. "I'm going to check in on the others. Are you hanging around for the day?"

"If it's okay with you."

"I'm fine with it," I said. "Oh, and you don't think you're going to keep that fake ID, do you?"

I held out my hand, waiting for him to come off the ID.

"How much trouble does this buy me?" he asked reluctantly as he pulled it out of his wallet and handed it over.

"I'll think about it and let you know."

TBC...


	83. Chapter 83

**Jennifer POV**

* * *

><p>"<em><strong>So if I tell you, you'll help me?"<strong>_

"_**Sure**_," Alex replied easily.

"_**Bring in the DA. I want to hear it from him."**_

"_**The DA? You mean the one you almost killed this morning?**_" Bobby asked loudly as he strode across the room, coming to a stop so close to Kadare that he'd backed up in his chair just to avoid any kind of contact.

I guess they changed their minds about sane cop / crazy cop, and instead they were just going with calm cop / intimidating cop. It was a good choice, really, because Bobby certainly has a knack for intimdation.

Although I bet Alex does, too.

She sat still and pinned him with an intense stare as Bobby leaned in close to Kadare and added, "_**Yeah, sure, I'll bring him in. I bet he's got a thing or two to say to you."**_

"_**No. I don't want him. Somebody else."**_

"_**Why, so one of your buddies can target him? You think we're stupid, Kadare?"**_

"_**No! I just…it wouldn't be fair to have the same DA…"**_

"_**So now you're accusing him of being unethical, is that it? You try to blow his head off and then you question his professionalism?"**_

"_**What do you have against Mr. Cutter?"**_ Alex asked as she stood up and moved to encroach on Kadare's space, too.

"_**No, it's…"**_ Kadare stammered.

"_**Settle down, Detectives**_," the attorney spoke up apprehensively. "_**You're badgering my client."**_

"_**This isn't a courtroom, Mr. Giles. We can badger him all we want,**_" Alex fired back aggressively. I guess she decided not to let Bobby have all of the fun.

And really, it was entertaining to watch.

Bobby turned a chair around backwards and then sat in it, with his arms resting along the back of it. He was only inches off to one side of Kadare, and then Alex moved to sit on the edge of the table, right in front of where Kadare was sitting, so he was essentially pinned in on all four sides: the wall, his attorney, Bobby, and Alex.

He scooted his chair a little closer to his attorney since he was already back against the wall, and then he cringed slightly when Alex slammed her hand on the table and said, "_**So which is it, Mr. Kadare? **__**Is it personal against Mr. Cutter? Or do you have a problem with prosecutors in general? Because we're not going to call in another one and risk his safety if you're only going to…"**_

"_**It wasn't him, okay?**_" Kadare yelled defensively. I could practically see him sweating. "_**We weren't aiming for him! It was the other guy – Mike Logan!"**_

"_**You don't have to talk,**_" the attorney said to his client.

"_**Yes, he does**_," Alex argued. "_**Otherwise you're on a sinking ship, Kadare. Your cohort's in the other room talking to our colleagues, and if you think he won't give you up in a second, then you're dumber than you look."**_

"_**Don't be dumb,**_" Bobby continued, picking up the thread. "_**The first one to talk gets the deal, and you're off to a good start. So the hit was supposed to be on Logan."**_

"_**That's right. We don't know where he's staying, but we figured we'd be able to catch up with him here."**_

"_**Okay, good. And Demachi ordered the hit, right?"**_

Kadare paused for a minute, but then he nodded his head.

"_**How did he convey the information? You've got his cell number?"**_

Kadare nodded again and Bobby pulled out a notebook and set it in front of him.

"_**Write it down."**_

"_**And you'll bring in the DA? I mean, a different DA?"**_

"This guy _really_ doesn't want to talk to you," Ross commented in amusement.

He was standing in the observation room with me and Mike, watching the Gorens do their dance.

"_That's Bobby's move_," I heard him mumble a few minutes earlier, after Alex slammed her hand on the table. "_Those two are so..."_

_"Good?_" I supplied.

"_I'm not sure that's a strong enough word."_

And he was right. Watching them with Kadare made me wonder if I'd struck out with Noli because he truly wouldn't talk or simply because I'm not as good as they are.

Although Mary had been with me and she's good.

But after spending time with Noli in the interrogation room, the only thing I know for sure about him is that he's a cocky little SOB.

All I wanted to do during the entire interrogation was hit him.

And if he'd managed to actually shoot Mike, I would've done a whole lot more than that.

Because the whole thing this morning really freaked me out.

He could've been killed.

_My_ Mike.

That's how I've started thinking about him, since there's another Mike in the mix.

And sure, it's way too soon for me to be throwing out possessive pronouns, but I don't care.

I like him.

And thinking about how much danger he'd been in this morning made me think that my personal goal to abstain for two weeks was just stupid.

Can't my goal just be to make sure I _continue_ to get to know him, even after we start having sex?

"I can't say that I blame him," Mike said in response to Ross' comment. "I'm not exactly motivated to give him any kind of deal."

"Bobby and Alex know you're not going to," I assured him. "_He's_ just too stupid to know better."

"Who? The attorney or the thug?" Ross asked with a smirk.

"Either. Both."

"_**Next time you might want to think about getting confirmation of your target,"**_ Alex said.

Kadare had finished writing, so Bobby picked up the notebook and looked at it thoughtfully.

"_**I wouldn't have hit that DA guy. I'm a better shot than that."**_

"_**You didn't hit anybody,"**_ Bobby pointed out.

"_**Not only that, but you weren't shooting at Mike Logan**_," Alex added.

"_**I'm telling you…I was**_," he insisted. _**"That other guy…"**_

"_**I'm not talking about the DA. I'm talking about the fact that Logan wasn't out on those steps this morning. He's not even in the city**_," Alex lied.

"_**He's…what?"**_

"_**That's right. I wonder how Demachi's going to react when he finds out that you got pinched for an attempted hit on the wrong guy. **_**And**_ **that you gave up his cell number. It looks like it's a bad day to be you, Kadare."**_

"Good," Ross said as he clicked off the speaker. "You've got a cell number, so maybe now you can track his location. What's going on with Christina?"

"She asked to go back to her cell after she finished with Bailey. Mary's talking with him now, trying to find out what the hell's going on," I answered.

"Lupo and Bernard? They brought in the mystery lover?"

"Marco Sterescu," I said with a nod. "But he's already asked for a lawyer, so they're waiting for him to show up."

"Okay. I'm going to step out for a couple of hours, but I'll be back."

He left the room and I glanced into the interrogation room for a second before settling my gaze on Mike.

"Has the adrenaline worn off yet?" I asked him knowingly.

I hadn't gotten to see him much since the shooting, although I'd heard from Mary that he'd saved John's life.

She was pretty rattled, understandably so, but she still handled the situation with remarkable competency.

Of course, once things settled down, she spent about ten minutes behind closed doors with John.

I don't blame her for that at all.

In fact, I would've liked to be behind closed doors with Mike for ten minutes, too, but it didn't work out that way.

As it was, after John left, she and I went back up to the conference room.

Initially, I'd been expecting the third degree from her about my date last night, but the shooting had changed the mood of the day.

Or so I thought.

"_Please tell me you didn't forget about my warning_," she said after closing the door.

"_What warning_?" I asked, my mind still on Mike and his close call.

_"Utah_," she said firmly. "_Do you think I'm kidding about that? Because I'm not. And maybe it's unprofessional of me to threaten you with workplace repercussions over a personal relationship, but I'm serious, Jennifer…"_

"_Wait, you're talking about me screwing over Mike?"_

"_Well, yeah. You slept with him last night?"_

My first reaction was annoyance.

Okay, that was my second reaction, too.

So I went with it.

"_You're right. It **is** unprofessional to threaten me about my personal relationships. And for you to take advantage of the fact that I had to check in with you last night like you're my warden or something...that's just wrong. Because under normal circumstances, it wouldn't be any of your damn business where I sleep on a Friday night_," I said as my anger continued to build.

And yeah, it was probably more from fear at what could've happened to Mike than anger at Mary, but still…

"_And furthermore_," I continued. "_You're assuming that if I slept with him it means I'm going to screw him over? That's a nice character assessment. Thanks, Mary, I really appreciate that. What does it say in my file that leads you to believe that I'm some kind of hose beast who gets off on seeing how many men I can plow through?"_

I stood in front of her with my hands on my hips, and her position mirrored mine as we glared one another down.

Then she finally cracked a smile.

"_I see your balls are intact today. Good. But_ _hose beast?" _

_"It's an expression,"_ I said dismissively. "_And you know damn well what I mean."_

_"Yes, I do. And you're right. It's none of my business."_

_"No, it's not,"_ I agreed firmly. Then I let out a sigh and added, "_But I like that you're concerned for him. I know you don't know me very well yet."_

_"But that doesn't mean I should assume the worst. Maybe I was just projecting myself onto you. I think I mentioned that you remind me of me."_

_"You did,"_ I said as I relaxed marginally.

"_Yeah, well that was my MO. And maybe I figured that you're like me in that way, too."_

_"Honestly? I was. But Mike's different. And yes, I stayed at his place last night, but only because I didn't want to go all the way back to the safe house."_

_"You slept with him to avoid traffic?"_

_"I didn't have sex with him,"_ I admitted, finally breaking into laughter. "_We just…slept."_

_"Really,"_ she stated skeptically.

"_Okay, so that's not all we did, but I'm not giving you the play-by-play. But…I do really like him, and I promise you, I'm not going to screw him over."_

She looked down at the floor, shaking her head as she ran her hand through her hair.

_"You know, I practiced this conversation in my head, and it didn't sound anything like this,"_ she mumbled. "_Although in my defense, that was before my future husband took gunfire, and now I'm a little off my game…"_

_"Are you okay?"_ I asked her.

_"Yeah. So you're still talking to me?"_

"_I know you're only looking out for Mike,_" I said with understanding.

"_I should be looking out for you. You're my partner. So you had a good time with him?"_

_"I did,"_ I admitted with a smile. "_A really good time. We've got another date tonight."_

To go see a Mets game, which I'm excited about simply because he's excited about it.

And maybe being in a public stadium will be a good thing for us, because I'm familiar with _my_ reaction to an overabundance of adrenaline, and if Mike's is anything like mine, privacy might get us into trouble.

"It's slowing down," Mike responded, referencing his current level of the powerful hormone. "It was raging pretty hard for a while there."

"I heard you let the two Irishmen off the hook."

"I had to get Jack to sign off on it, since I might be considered biased, but yeah…it's a done deal."

"I'm going to call them later," I told him. "You know, buy them a drink or twelve."

"I was thinking about doing that myself," he said, and then he smiled that little half-smile of his that just sends my system into overdrive because he's so damn cute.

He was dressed in faded jeans…ones that look well-worn, not the kind with pressed creases that some suit-and-tie guys pull out to try to appear casual. No, these looked like they were a real part of his wardrobe, and let me tell you…he wears them well.

His t-shirt was gray with _Rutgers_ written across the chest in red, and I had the sudden irrational urge to lay claim to it. I mean, it looked soft, and it probably smelled like him, and maybe if I sleepover with him again tonight, I'll talk him into letting me wear it.

_Sleepover again…_

That was a first for me, spending the night with a man without having sex. I never would've imagined that it could be so…comfortable and natural.

Of course, it was torturous, too.

Having his hard body pressed up against mine while his hands stroked over my skin…there were several times when I nearly gave in.

And I don't mean gave in to _him_, because he wasn't pressuring me. I mean gave in to _myself_ because I wanted him so bad.

And I really shouldn't be using past tense when I say that because I want him just as badly right now as I did last night.

Maybe even more so.

I finished my covert perusal of him, and when I brought my eyes back to his, I found him staring at me, which only increased the tingling feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Do you still feel like going to the game tonight?" I asked him. "I'll understand, if you don't. It's been kind of a stressful day."

"Are you trying to get out of it?" he replied as he took a step closer to me.

"I'm trying to give _you_ an out," I corrected.

"I don't need one. I've got two tickets for front row seats right behind the Mets dugout."

"And those are…good seats?" I asked playfully.

I'm not quite that clueless about baseball, but it's fun to tease him.

But he skillfully turned it on me, leaning close and saying quietly, "Any seat next to you would be the best one in the house."

And damn if his deep, rumbling tone didn't send that tingling feeling all the way down to my toes.

There's no way in hell I'm going to survive for thirteen more days.

Or wait, I guess it's less that that. Technically, I met him last Sunday night, so that means that today is day seven, so...seven more days?

But even with my convoluted counting method, I'm still not sure I can make it seven more days.

I mean seriously…I'm standing here _at work_ supposedly watching an interrogation and yet all I can think about is kissing him.

And he's so close…

I reached out and touched him, settling my hand lightly against his chest, feeling the softness of the cotton fabric.

And then I clutched it and pulled him closer to me because I'm tired of exhibiting so much damn willpower all of the time.

I kissed him, doing my best to keep it light and mostly chaste, but it only made me want more.

"I'm sorry," I said when I forced myself to pull back. "I shouldn't have done that here."

"See to it that it doesn't happen again," he replied, his voice nearly a whisper as he leaned in and captured my lips again, only this time there was nothing light or chaste about it.

I was irrationally pondering the sturdiness of the lone table in the room, when movement behind the glass caught my attention.

"I think they're done," I said, slightly breathless as I moved back from him, putting a couple of feet of space in between us.

"I guess that's my cue," he said regretfully. "If we miss each other this afternoon, why don't you come to my place around five? I've got an extra Mets jersey you can wear."

Before I could respond, the door came open and Bobby and Alex came inside.

"What do you think, Mike?" Alex asked him.

"I'm going to offer him fifteen years for attempted murder," he replied.

"That's not much of a deal," Bobby said with a grin. "I like it."

"Me, too," I agreed. "And I think you should offer Noli twenty. He's a prick. At least this guy seems a little remorseful."

"Sounds good to me," Mike said as he headed for the door. He caught my eye on the way out, and said, "Five?"

"I'll be there."

He closed the door behind him and then went into the other room.

"I'm guessing you didn't get anything out of Noli?" Alex asked.

"No. And Christina's being flakier than usual. Mary's having a chat with Bailey as we speak."

"Do you think he's going to bar us from talking to her?"

"It's hard to say, but Mary can be pretty persuasive," I stated. "Let's go run that cell number and see what we get. And while we're waiting on that, we can see if Marco's lawyer is here yet. I know Lupo and Bernard were anxious to find out what he knows."

"Oh, so you don't want to stay in here and watch your boyfriend?" Alex asked innocently.

"Is that an option?" I replied as I looked at Mike through the glass.

"No," Alex said on a laugh. "Come on. It sounds like we need to get you out of here by five o'clock."

TBC...


	84. Chapter 84

**Bernard POV**

* * *

><p>I left 1PP and headed for Lauren's apartment.<p>

_Or rather, Lauren's __**old**__ apartment_, I amended with a smile.

And I'm not sure what it is about her wanting to move in with me that has me so ecstatic.

Okay, yes, I _am_ sure.

It's because this is a serious commitment, one that she didn't even blink at making.

Not only that, but she's in just as much of a hurry to make it happen as me.

It could've been something we talked about and then procrastinated over, considering our work schedules. It would've been feasible if it had taken us weeks to actually make the move.

But we're doing it today.

She's already given Mulder the go-ahead to move his stuff in, and she left work a few hours ago in order to handle some of the details.

For the most part, we figured she could pack in increments, bringing over books and boxes and various personal items in stages, but there are a couple of things that can't wait.

She needed to empty her dresser drawers.

She has clothes at my place – _our_ place – but she wants to make sure that she doesn't leave any underwear or bras or other intimate items that Mulder might stumble across.

And she wanted to strip the bed and put on fresh sheets.

I would've liked to help with that.

Although the end result may have been us needing to repeat the process, because seeing her anywhere near a bed would've been enough to push me over the edge. She started my motor running earlier when she stopped by the conference room at 1PP to tell me goodbye.

And really, she didn't _do_ anything.

But she looked so…delectable.

"_I'm going to pack some things_," she told me after I stepped out in the hall with her to have a moment of privacy. We chatted briefly about what she needed to take care of, and then she asked, "_How much longer do you think you'll be here?"_

"_A few hours probably_," I replied. "_We're waiting on Marco's attorney to show up, and then we have to see what we can get from him."_

"_Don't be too late_," she said, and despite her innocent words, her voice was laden with suggestion, and I wanted to touch her so badly…

But not standing in plain view of the squad room.

"_I won't. Do me a favor, and don't change clothes_," I told her.

She broke into a smile and asked, "_Why, do you like my outfit, B?"_

"_You know I do."_

"_Are you still flashing back to your college days? Because I don't know if that's a good thing or not…you were quite the ladies' man back then_," she teased.

"_But if I'd had you back then, I never would've looked at another woman_," I assured her.

I held her gaze for another moment as the heat zipped back and forth between us, and then she smiled again and patted me on the arm before heading for the squad room.

And I'm not going to lie.

I watched her walk away.

But then things got busy and I had to focus on the case instead of thinking about other things.

Like how sexy she is.

Or how much I love her.

_Or_ the fact that she stated that one of the things she'd be picking up while at her apartment was – as she calls it – her midnight cowboy.

"_Not that I need it_," she added quickly after mentioning it. "_But I don' t want to leave it there either."_

"_Good thinking,"_ I agreed on a chuckle.

Because I think catching sight of that would probably give Mulder a heart attack.

_And_ I'd really rather him not be thinking about her like that, so…yeah.

It's best if she packs up things like that on this first trip.

_**Are you almost done?**_ is the text message I got a few minutes ago.

_**I'm leaving now. I can be there in half an hour.**_

_**I'm done packing, so I'm going for a run. I'll keep it short, and meet you at the apartment**_.

I guess she'll be changing clothes after all, but I'm not going to complain about seeing her in her running attire either.

It honestly doesn't matter what she wears. I just love the idea that from now on, neither of us will be pulling clothes from duffle bags. All of our stuff will be commingling in the closet together.

I thought briefly about the adjustments I'd need to make so that she'd have room for her things, and then my mind wandered back to the interview with Marco.

It was…thought-provoking.

"_First of all, Detectives, this charge of assaulting an officer is crap_," the attorney said as soon as we entered the room.

"_Tell that to my face_," I retorted.

"_You made me do it_," Marco said petulantly.

That's the odd thing about him. He seems like a child.

And yet not.

And I don't mean in the same way as Mulder.

I mean…I think maybe we're being played.

Again.

"_Can we bypass the arguing and talk about what's important?_" Lupo asked as he pulled out a chair and sat down.

"_So you agree the charge is petty and inconsequential."_

"_No, but I'm agreeing to disagree. Right now, I want to know about Christina."_

"_I'm sorry, but my client is unfamiliar with anyone by that name."_

"_He already admitted to knowing her_," I pointed out. "_She's the reason why he agreed to come with us."_

"_You coerced him into your car,"_ the attorney said, and as he spoke, Marco sat back in his chair and crossed him arms over his chest.

I eyeballed him skeptically from my position near the door, but he didn't wilt under my gaze as I thought he might.

Instead, he almost looked amused.

"_Don't waste our time_," I said carefully, keeping my eyes on Marco. "_If you tell us what we need to know, you can probably sleep in your own bed tonight."_

"_I don't know Christina. I don't know how I can possibly help you. And I don't even know why I'm here. So…are we done?"_

"_Not even close. We have security footage that puts you in the Maritime Hotel with Christina Cincinelli, and we have a witness who will testify that the two of you were engaging in very public displays of affection, so it's a fact that you know her. Now...here's how it's going to go. Either you go to prison for being a conspirator in every one of her crimes, or you convince us that you're an innocent participant in all of this, and you speak out against her,"_ Lupo stated.

"_You want a statement from me_?" Marco questioned.

Lupo leaned back in his chair and gave the boy an encouraging nod.

"_Okay, sure. Here's my statement. Go to hell, Detective."_

"_I'm curious, Marco,_" I said. "_Just how short is that leash she has you on?"_

"_You don't know what you're talking about."_

"_I think I do. I think that's why you changed your tune…you decided that you're more afraid of her than you are of us."_

"_I don't have any reason to be afraid of you. I haven't done anything wrong."_

"_But you do have reason to be afraid of her, is that it?"_ Lupo asked.

"_Not at all_," he said with a smile. _"I think it's safe to say that she would never hurt me."_

"_Oh, so now you want to admit to knowing her. Good, that moves things along."_

"_Okay, yeah, sure_," he said with a shrug. "_I'll admit to having…intimate, carnal knowledge of her."_

"_Do you know who her father is?"_

"_Does it matter?"_

"_It might,_" I said.

"_It doesn't_," he said confidently.

"_Do you know how many other men have…how did you put it?"_ I asked, looking to Lupo as though I needed him to fill in the blanks.

"_Intimate, carnal knowledge_," he supplied.

"_Right. You don't think you've cornered that market, do you?"_ I questioned, seeing if I could make him mad.

"_I only met her six months ago. It's not like I expected her to be a virgin,"_ he replied, but I thought I sensed a little bit of discomfort, so I jumped on it.

"_Jetmir Demachi. Tariq Rama. Derek Gilmore…all in the past six months."_

"_You're lying."_

"_No, I'm not,"_ I said firmly as I walked a little closer to the table. _"I think we might even have photographic evidence in the file…Lupes?"_

"_Yeah, I'm sure we do_," he agreed. "_So you know, Marco. You're nothing special to her. She probably seduced you as part of some grand scheme, and as soon as you've served your purpose, she's going to cut you loose."_

That's when the juvenile side of Marco showed itself again.

He hopped up from the table, cursing at us for our lies and insisting upon the fact that we were only jealous of their love and we're trying to ruin it.

Lupo and I let him get it out of his system.

I was hoping he might say something of probative value, but his lawyer managed to rein him in before he could incriminate himself.

Although for what, I'm not sure.

He admits to being in love with Christina.

He doesn't think she's done anything wrong, but yet he didn't ask why she's in trouble.

And the really interesting thing is that he barely flinched when I mentioned Demachi and Rama, and yet Derek's name is what nearly sent him into a rage.

Maybe he knew him from the docks?

Or was it something more?

Lupo and I are going to have to dig a lot deeper into Marco's life.

But tomorrow.

Not tonight.

We met up with the rest of the investigative team around three-thirty.

Christina was still giving Mary the runaround, and so far, Bailey was content to let her play her game.

"_She's in lock-up_," he said dismissively. "_What does it hurt to postpone the interrogation since you know she can't get into any trouble?"_

"_It hurts because I'm not getting the answers I need,_" Mary argued. "_And doesn't that tell you something? That she'd rather be in jail than answer a few questions and go back to the safe house?"_

"_It tells me that maybe she's afraid of you. She said you've been harassing her, and that you've been extremely unsympathetic to her condition."_

"_I'll show you unsympathetic,"_ Mary fired back as she stepped closer to the US Attorney.

At that point, Jennifer had stepped up beside her partner and for a brief moment, I thought there was going to be a brawl, but then McInnis settled his colleagues down, and Daniels roughly guided Bailey out of the room to the sound of Mary calling him a douchebag and threatening to go over his head.

"_I think maybe it's time we call it quits for the day_," Alex said. "_We've got eyes out for Rama, we're waiting on a cell phone ping for Demachi, and Christina's not going to be able to hold out much longer. But we all need a break. And a good night's sleep. It looks like it's going to be a full day again tomorrow."_

Everyone agreed, which is how I found myself pulling the car into an empty spot across from Lauren's building at four-fifteen.

It was exactly thirty minutes after I exchanged texts with Lauren, so it was a safe bet that she'd be along any minute and it's a nice afternoon, so I decided to sit on the front steps and wait for her.

I took off my jacket and set it beside me and then loosened my tie. As I reached up to undo the top button, I heard Lauren say, "Feel free to undo a few more."

I looked up to see her walking along the sidewalk, almost to the bottom of the stairs, and damn if the sight of her doesn't make my heart start pounding.

I wonder if that feeling will fade with time. If there will come a day when seeing her is so commonplace that it doesn't affect my pulse at all.

I doubt it.

She paused at the foot of the stairs and I watched her while she worked to catch her breath. Her t-shirt was damp, causing it to mold to her body, and her skin was covered in sweat and my fingers were itching with the need to touch her.

"Maybe you want to undo them for me," I countered.

I didn't make any move to get up, but instead I kept my eyes on hers as she climbed the steps until she was standing directly in front of me.

"I think I do," she agreed. I held out my hands to her, with the intent of pulling her onto my lap, but she hesitated and said, "I'm really sweaty."

"I can see that. I think we've established that I like you sweaty," I reminded her as I took hold of her hands.

She sat down on my thighs, with one leg on either side of me, and then she reached out and undid the second button.

"How do your knees feel?" I asked her as I moved my hands lightly over her scraped-up knees.

"They're fine. I'm just annoyed with myself for letting it happen. What about you? How's the jaw?"

"I'll survive. So how far did you go?" I asked her as I slid my hands up along her thighs until my fingertips were barely under the hem of her shorts.

"Only four miles. I didn't want to keep you waiting, although I guess I did."

"I just got here. And you could've gone further. You know I'd wait."

"Well, maybe I didn't want to get too tired, either," she said with a grin. "I got a text from Mulder that said he'll be here around five, so…we've got forty-five minutes to say goodbye to the apartment."

"I think I can work with that," I agreed.

I moved my hands around to her back, slipping them just under the edge of her t-shirt. I wasn't going to get carried away, considering we were still outside, but it was tough to resist the urge to feel her skin.

"Then let's go upstairs," she suggested.

"I think that's how you got me into your bed the first time," I teased.

"Uh huh," she replied, bringing her lips close to mine. "I said I wanted to kiss you without the console in between us."

She closed the last distance, settling her mouth on mine as I tightened my grip on her, hugging her closely to me, and the kiss went from G-rated to something bordering on R in only a few seconds.

I had to pull away, or else I was in danger of just having her right out here on the stairs, and as enjoyable as that might be, an arrest for public indecency probably wouldn't look good in my jacket. Or hers either, for that matter.

"So are you going to come upstairs?" she asked me.

"There wasn't any console between us this time," I joked.

And it was definitely a joke because there isn't a man alive who would be able to stop me from going upstairs.

"Maybe I want to kiss you without the clothes between us," she countered.

Then she leaned in and started kissing along the edge of my ear as she whispered _please_ in a wonderfully playful and seductive voice, and I was starting to worry that I might not even _make_ it upstairs…and then what happened next had me re-evaluating my earlier thought.

Apparently there _is_ a man alive who can stop me from going upstairs.

"Lauren?"

She immediately stopped kissing me, and I felt her entire body stiffen as she pulled back and turned around.

I moved my hands to a more respectable spot on the _outside_ of her clothes as I looked down to where a man stood on the sidewalk, having just gotten out of a cab.

"Who's that?" I asked quietly as she hopped up from my lap and self-consciously tugged on her shirt.

"It's…" she began, but then she trailed off as he spoke.

"Oh my God, it _is_ you," the man said in a disdainful tone as he continued to stand uncomfortably at the bottom of the stairs. "Lauren…"

"Hi, Daddy."

TBC...


	85. Chapter 85

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>"The whole time?"<p>

"Pretty much, yeah."

"Wow. That's…impressive," Bobby said and then he fell silent as the bartender brought us another round of beers.

Johnny found banking records dating back more than forty years.

Casey sent my mother money every month, from the time he graduated high school.

Sometimes it was only twenty dollars, and other times it was as much as five hundred dollars, but it was always something.

All the way up until about twenty years ago.

"_And then it was sporadic, but in larger amounts_," Johnny told me as he pulled out the photo copy of several more bank statements. "_I'm thinking that maybe…you know…"_

"_She kept him on the hook_," I finished, knowing that's what he was going for. "_She probably told him that I needed it for one thing or another."_

"_Yeah," _he agreed quietly.

"_But he would've known I was a grown man by then. Why didn't he just get in touch?"_

"_I don't know."_

"_This money…it totals nearly a hundred grand."_

"_He wanted to make sure you were taken care of."_

Yeah, I was taken care of.

I was handed a twenty on a regular basis and ordered to go to the liquor store.

"So what are you thinking?" Bobby asked me.

"I think I'm going to Pensacola as soon as I can get a little time off."

"Casey's ex-wife?"

"Uh huh. Johnny found her. She's alive and well, living on a houseboat on the Bayou Chico."

"Take John's plane and go tomorrow," he said. "You closed your case. And it wouldn't hurt for you to be out of New York while we wrap up the Albanian case."

"It might be a wasted trip. She might not know anything."

"He was paying Shannon all throughout the time they were married. She knows something."

"Maybe," I agreed thoughtfully. "But maybe I should just let it go."

"Why?"

I didn't respond, but instead took a sip of my beer, so he answered his own question.

And pretty accurately, I might add.

"Because you think that it's going too well, and as soon as you start digging deeper, the real, ugly truth will come to light."

"Maybe," I said again.

"Do I need to remind you that O'Connor's been in town for two days, just for you? And that two of his men took out two would-be assassins today? He loved your father. And despite what he does, I think he's a good man. You can dig all you want to, but I think you're only going to find that your father was seduced by an older woman, and then spent the rest of his life trying to do the right and honorable thing by you. From what I know of your mother, my guess is that she probably made up some story as to why he shouldn't contact you…she might've even suggested that you knew about him and hated him, or maybe she had something else that she was holding over his head."

"You mean like blackmail?"

"I don't know, but he was a kid when their paths crossed, and he ended up going down the road of law enforcement. If she had evidence that he did something wrong, something that might hamper his career…I don't know. I'm just speculating. But you know who'll probably know."

"Cathleen," I said with a nod.

"So send Carolyn a text and tell her to pack a bag," he said with a smile. "It sounds like the two of you are heading to Florida."

"I should probably at least ask John if I can borrow his plane," I remarked, and then I had to laugh. "You know, that's a statement I never imagined myself saying."

"What, that you should ask your brother if you can use his plane?" he asked as he laughed along with me. "Yeah, it is kind of outside our realm of reality, isn't it?"

"Did you ever wish that you were adopted?" I questioned suddenly. "When you were a kid, and your old man was…doing what he did while your mom was…acting how she did…did you wish once in a while that you came from someone else?"

"No," he answered. "Did you?"

"No. I was just wondering if maybe I shouldn't have been so resigned to my fate."

"You think fantasizing about a normal family would've made a difference?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Mental toughness and a will to survive…_that's_ what made the difference," he stated firmly as he took another sip of his beer. "So…Alex gave you a verbal ass-whipping earlier, huh?"

"She's good at it," I admitted. "But you can understand my side of it, right?"

"I can see how it's entirely your fault that you and John look enough alike to confuse a couple of hit men? Of course."

I rolled my eyes at him, but I couldn't help but smile.

"It's the fact that there's a hit man at all," I pointed out.

"Which is because you took the blame for something that my wife did," he finished. "Man, is this what I used to sound like? Because it's kind of annoying."

"Gee, thanks," I replied wryly. Although he has a point. I really need to quit brow-beating myself. "And for the record, you were much worse."

"I'm not sure how that's possible."

"Another round for my brothers," said a voice from behind us, and we both turned around to see John approaching the bar.

"Sure, act like a big spender," I joked. "You know you're not paying for any drinks in this place."

"Yeah, because I _own_ it," John said good-naturedly as he sat down next to me. "So what'd I miss?"

"It's all Mike's fault that the two of you look alike," Bobby stated. "Oh, and he wants to take your plane to Florida tomorrow."

"Sure. I guess I won't be needing it for London."

"You were thinking about going back? I thought the plan was for you to stay stateside for a while," I commented. "Is there trouble with the deal?"

"No, but I suggested to Mary that she and I get married tomorrow in London."

"You can't do it tomorrow," Bobby said.

"Why not?"

"Wait, let me guess. Another bet?" I asked.

"Oh yeah. And it's not that I mind losing, but you know, she's smug enough as it is."

"I'm guessing she says the same thing about you every time you pull a theory out of your ass," I replied. "Which speaking of, where are you guys on the case? What did Christina have to say for herself?"

"Nothing. She's hiding behind the US Attorney, and he's letting her. I thought Mary was going to hit him this afternoon."

"I'm sure he's got it coming," John said. "Because you know Mary would never resort to violence unless it's absolutely necessary."

"Oh, he's got it coming," Bobby agreed. "But we got off track. You two were going to fly to London tomorrow?"

"I threw it out there, but since this case is still rolling along, there's no way she can take the time off."

"Another reason for her to hate Bailey. If he weren't such a tool, we could've talked to Christina yesterday," Bobby said. "And then we might be done with this mess by now."

"What did Lupo and Bernard find out from that other guy? What's his name…Marco?"

"Yeah," Bobby said with a nod. "And very little. He's in this, but I haven't figured out how. When they were questioning him, they mentioned that Christina slept with Demachi and Rama and another guy, Derek Gilmore. It was only the last one that seemed to piss him off."

"So you think he already knew about the other two?" I asked. "And why would hearing about Derek make him mad? I mean, really…it would be bad enough to share your woman, but once you know about two men, what difference does a third make?"

"Unless he has reason not to like Derek," John suggested. "Did they know each other?"

"We haven't found a definitive connection, other than Christina and the fact that they both worked on the docks. But it's a big area, so that might not mean anything."

Bobby stared at his glass of beer for a minute and I found myself watching him because I recognize his expression.

Something's not making sense and he's trying to shift the pieces until they fit.

"What is it?" I asked at last.

"I'm just thinking…"

"You usually are," John said on a laugh. "So have you solved the case? Because I'd really love to be on the plane to London in the morning."

"No, but…the first murders…"

"The brother and his family?" I asked.

"Right. We haven't really given them much focus because everyone assumed it was just the Albanians looking for Christina, right?"

"Yeah," I said with a nod. "But you don't think so?"

"Six victims, and the COD was two gunshots to the head on each of them. There wasn't any destructive violence in the house. Just neat and clean methodical killing."

"No one got roughed up," I said with a nod. "Why not, if they wanted information?"

"Right. Initially we assumed it was just a scare tactic to make Christina come home, but what if it wasn't?"

"Wasn't there a note?" John asked. Bobby looked over at him questioningly, and he shrugged and said, "Hey, I pay attention."

"You're right, it said _one down, three to go – unless you end it now_."

"Meaning Christina's family."

"Or not," Bobby said. "Maybe that's just what someone wanted us to think. What if we've been wrong about this?"

"I don't know," I said thoughtfully. "Who else would have reason to kill them?"

"I'm not sure, but if it was Demachi or Rama, why wasn't there more violence? Anna's apartment was a mess, and so was she…when they broke into my place, it wasn't a finesse job. It's all about brute force with them."

"Okay," I agreed. "Okay, so what does that tell you?"

"We need to look at the brother more closely. His was the first murder, so maybe it'll shed some light on the rest of it."

We tossed about some more theories for a while longer, and then we got back onto the topic of my pending trip to Florida.

"Johnny did some nice investigative work," John remarked. "Finding forty-year-old bank records is pretty impressive."

"O'Grady obviously wasn't trying to hide anything," Bobby pointed out. "He wasn't trying to bury the fact that he had a son."

"No, but he didn't advertise it either. O'Connor didn't know until last summer."

"Well, maybe Cathleen will be able to enlighten you about that, too," John said. "The plane's at LaGuardia. Just give me an hour or two of notice, and I'll make sure you're ready to go."

"Thanks, I appreciate that," I told him as I got up from the bar stool. "And now I think it's time for me to go up and make love to my wife. You know, it's a tough job, but somebody's got to do it."

"Are you offering for someone else to keep her happy?" Bobby asked with a grin. "Because I don't think Alex will mind if Carolyn wants to join us. I've been declared fit for duty, so I think I'm up for the challenge."

"Don't even think about it," I replied. "And I mean that."

"I take it she's feeling better today?" John asked me. "I guess you both are, huh?"

"Liz is the miracle doctor," I stated. "I'll let her jab me in the ass any time."

"She'll be thrilled to hear that," Bobby said on a laugh.

"Oh, hey, I invited Mike Cutter to the poker game," John said suddenly. "I hope that's alright, but you know, he's a nice guy, and now he's dating Mary's partner, so…"

"It's fine," Bobby agreed. "If you hadn't, I would have. So we're set for Friday night, right?"

"I'm in," I agreed, and then I said, "But my only question is this…will John still be single? Or will he have a wife who gives him a spending limit and a curfew?"

John barked out a laugh and said, "It might be the former, but it definitely won't be the latter. Mary doesn't even want to be named in my will, so you know she doesn't say anything about what I spend."

"She doesn't want you to put her in your will?"

"She insisted on not being in it. And she wants a pre-nup. The woman is crazy."

"Agreed," I said. "But I like her."

"Me, too," Bobby added.

"Good, so no one's going to be mad if we say our vows somewhere in private?"

"Nope," I promised. "And now, seriously…I need to go."

"Yeah, you wouldn't want to leave Carolyn tied up for too long," Bobby joked as I started walking away.

I smirked and waved him off as I headed for the exit, and even though I should've been thinking about Carolyn, and whether or not she was in our room waiting for me, I wasn't.

I was thinking about half-brothers and long-lost fathers.

And as I reached the door, I had a thought that stopped me in my tracks, so then I turned around and went back into the bar.

"What if the brother was another child?" I posed. "It could've been an ongoing affair that produced more than one offspring, right?"

John looked at me curiously, tipping his head slightly to one side while he considered my words, but Bobby…as usual, he filled in the blank stretch of road between point A and point D with amazing quickness.

"You think she had them killed," he stated with a slow nod. "To ensure her spot."

"It's a theory," I said with a shrug.

"It's a damn good one."

"Wait, what are we talking about?" John asked.

"Mike thinks Christina might've killed her brother's family," Bobby explained.

"Uh huh. She wiped out other possible heirs so that hers is the only one left."

TBC...

* * *

><p>This is it for a little while - I might post next week, but no promises! I hope you'll all come back in January...Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!<p> 


	86. Chapter 86

**Hayes POV**

* * *

><p>"Daddy, this is Kevin Bernard. B, this is my father, Grayson Hayes."<p>

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Bernard said as he stood beside me with his hand outstretched.

But my father only eyeballed him coolly and then ignored him altogether as he picked up his briefcase and said, "Lauren, we're going inside. Tell your friend goodbye."

After my father's directive, he stared at me expectantly, waiting for me to comply.

As though I'm still twelve years old.

And maybe that was how I felt when I first heard my father's voice while my lips were attached to Bernard's ear, but after the initial shock wore off, I just feel…angry about his obvious judgment and lack of manners.

So far, he's barely cast Bernard a glance, and he looks extremely uncomfortable, and now he wants me to send Bernard away?

Yeah, that's not going to happen.

"He's not leaving," I stated.

"Lauren, you're making a spectacle of yourself. First off, I found you engaged in an obscene display of lewd behavior, and now you insist on having this conversation out on the sidewalk in front of strangers…what's happened to you?"

"What's happened to _me_?" I repeated as my anger increased. "You mean in the past thirteen years? Because that's how long I've lived in New York, and you've never once visited, and yet now you're going to drop in unannounced and start making demands on me?"

"I'm your father," he said, as though that gave him license to be an ass.

"So?" I responded childishly.

He sighed and shook his head as he looked me up and down.

"Why didn't you tell me that you need money for clothes? You know I would've sent you whatever you need."

"I don't need money, Daddy. I just finished a run," I explained.

"Dressed like that?" he questioned sharply. "In this city?"

"It's shorts and a t-shirt," I replied defensively.

"It's an invitation to rape," he fired back, and just like that it was game, set, match.

I was rendered speechless.

"Whoa," Bernard said quickly. "Okay, you know what? I think we need to take a minute, and…"

"No, see that's where you're wrong," my father interrupted. "I don't need _you_ to do anything except give me some time alone with my daughter. I'm sure there'll be plenty of time for you to sully her reputation after I've gone back to St. Paul."

I was scrambling to get back into the fight, but my brain was stuck saying _I told you so_.

He _would_ blame me for what Flowers did to me, and me only thinking it wasn't nearly as bad as him providing me with irrefutable proof.

"B's not going anywhere," I finally managed to say as I blindly grabbed onto his hand for moral support. My knees felt weak and my stomach churned, but as Bernard clasped his fingers through mine, I held on tight and added, "And we actually have plans right now. So why don't you go to your hotel and maybe we'll meet you for dinner in a few hours, okay?"

"You're asking _me_ to leave?" he asked incredulously. And then his gaze softened along with his voice as he added, "I just came out here to see you…to make sure that you're okay. Clarissa said that you're…"

"Depressed," I finished for him. "I know, but see, I'm not. I'm happier than I've ever been. I told you that on the phone."

He stared at me a moment longer and then shifted his eyes to Bernard, scrutinizing him as he asked, "So you're the detective?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you don't think she can do better than you?"

"Daddy…"

"I'm sure of it," Bernard responded. "But for whatever reason, she seems to like me, so…"

"Huh. It looks to me like you're getting the better end of the bargain."

"Okay, that's enough," I told him.

"Let me grab you a cab," B added through gritted teeth.

"I know how to hail a cab," was the haughty response. "I just didn't expect to have to get one so soon."

"And I didn't expect for you to be so damn rude," I fired back. "Just go…okay? I'll call you in a little while and maybe we can try again, but right now, I'm done talking to you."

I didn't wait for a response, but instead turned and headed for the stairs. I was still holding B's hand, and I felt the slight tug as he was slower to walk away than me, but then he followed me up the stairs and into the building.

"I can't believe he just showed up here," I bit out as I stabbed my finger at the _up_ button, and then I went into the stairwell, deciding not to wait for the elevator. "And why does he have to be like that? He can't just be happy to see me? He has to criticize and analyze everything I do?"

"Hey," Bernard said gently, and then he stopped me from continuing up the stairs, pulling me towards him instead. "Just take a minute and breathe, okay?"

"How are you not completely pissed off?" I asked him. "He flat out stated that you're not good enough for me, which by the way, is complete bullshit. But still, how can he even say that when he doesn't know you at all? I'm just…I'm so…oh my God, I'm so pissed. And did you hear what he said about the way I'm dressed?"

My voice cracked as I said those last words, and B put his hands on my cheeks, tilting my head up so that I was looking him in the eye.

"Don't go down that road," he said firmly. "You didn't _ask_ for what happened to you, and your father…he doesn't know a damn thing about me _or_ you. He's just trying to push your buttons so that he can assert his authority over you as a parent, but he doesn't have that anymore."

"I know. I know you're right. I just…God, his timing really sucks. This has been such a good day."

"So tell me about it," he said to me as we continued up the stairs. "You caught the blackmailers. What else?"

"Um…well…I'm moving my stuff to your place," I replied, working to regain my rhythm.

"Our place," he corrected.

"My father's going to love that," I said, although I couldn't keep from smiling.

Was I really going to let him ruin things for me? I've lived just fine without him for more than a decade, so why do I feel the need to jump through hoops just to please him?

I'm not sure, but I'm not going to do it.

Especially not after the way he treated Bernard.

"What else?" he encouraged as we left the stairwell and went down the hall to my apartment.

"I was getting ready to get lucky," I reminded him. "We were going to properly say goodbye to my apartment, and now Mulder's going to be here in about fifteen minutes, so we've missed our chance."

"I can be quick," he said as he grabbed me from behind.

"Or…" I posed as I leaned back into him. "We can wait and reacquaint ourselves with your living room rug."

"Waiting is something I have a really hard time doing when it comes to you," he countered in a low voice.

I didn't unlock the door yet, and he had his body against mine, so I was trapped between him and the door and I suddenly felt a flash of panic, like I needed to get away.

I'm going to blame it on the fact that my father's words had put Flowers back into the front of my mind, because I couldn't stop from sucking in a harsh breath as my body stiffened.

Bernard recognized the change immediately and he took a step back.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have…"

"You didn't do anything wrong," I interrupted, but I kept my back to him as I worked to slow my breathing.

Damn Flowers.

And damn my father.

What kind of parent says something like that?

_An invitation to rape_.

And why is it that his words had the power to reverse my progress?

And how insulted must Bernard feel that I rebuffed him like that?

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly as he ran his hand over my back in a soothing manner.

"Yeah. I'm sorry. You know it's not you."

"I know that," he assured me.

He's always so understanding. But damn, when is enough enough?

"Come on, let's go inside," he added.

"No, I just…I ruined the whole moment, and…"

"You didn't ruin anything. I shouldn't have stood so close."

"No, what you shouldn't have to do is censor yourself around me," I replied firmly.

I finally turned around to look at him, hating that I'd turned this spontaneous and fun occasion into something serious.

So _when_ exactly is enough enough? Right freaking now.

I mean, god_damn..._it's been ten years. _Get over it, Lauren_.

"Do it again," I told him as I once again faced the door.

"Lauren…"

"Please. Just…hold me and tell me how I make you feel."

For a moment, he didn't move, and I almost reached into my pocket for the key, resigned to let the matter drop.

But then he stepped closer, moving in behind me but still not touching me.

Or at least not with his body.

But his hands…his hands trailed lightly down my arms and then slowly moved around to the front of me as he leaned in to whisper in my ear, telling me how much he loves me.

While he did that, he gradually eased closer until he was fully pressed against me, and I closed my eyes, letting out a long, slow breath as I let my arousal at the feel of him override any sense of long-ago fear.

He stopped talking and instead started kissing the side of my neck, and I was relieved to find that my earlier apprehension was short-lived because _this_ was _really_ feeling good. I reached back with one hand, taking hold of his belt loop and pulling him even tighter against me while I mentally debated if we truly had enough time to follow through.

"Dudes! Oh, hey…shit…I can come back."

_Apparently not. _

Bernard stopped kissing me and started chuckling instead as we both turned toward the elevator and saw Mulder standing there with a huge box in his hand.

"It's fine," Bernard said. "Come on."

"Are you sure? 'Cos dude, I'm early, so I can hang in the lobby until you're…you know…done with…whatever."

I pulled the key from my pocket and unlocked the door while B went to take the seemingly heavy box from Mulder's hands.

"Is Connie bringing up another one?" Bernard asked him.

"No, she's double-parked, so she's staying in the car. Besides, I can't let a chica carry boxes, right? She might break a nail or something, and that wouldn't be cool."

"So…only men can carry boxes?" I asked him.

"I don't mean you _can't_," he corrected quickly. "I'm just saying…you know, shit, I don't mean…"

"I'm teasing," I told him, letting him off the hook. "Go on down and get the next load. We'll have you moved in in no time."

And we did.

I organized while Mulder and Bernard made several trips, carrying my things on the way down and then Mulder's things on the way up, and by the time we finished, my good mood had returned.

"So dude…who's right?" Mulder was saying as he entered the apartment carrying the last of his belongings. It was a large purple inflatable alien, and as much as I tried not to laugh at it, I couldn't help myself.

"Hey, don't be hatin' on Ed, right?" he said to me, with a huge grin on his face.

"Don't be hatin'?" I repeated. "Mulder, who've you been hanging out with? Because I was just getting the hang of the way you talk, but if you're going to start switching up the lingo…"

"He's been getting schooled by the Ross boys," Bernard said, and he was smiling, too.

"It's hazy, you know what I'm saying?" Mulder said, setting down Ed on the sofa and then turning to Bernard. "Because sometimes I know what they're saying and then sometimes I don't, you know what I'm saying? And last night…you know, with the…um…"

He trailed off and glanced hesitantly at me before asking Bernard, "Was Aaron right? Or the doc? Because I get her point, but you know…I think I need to…um…you know, um…throw something in the Mississippi."

"Listen to the doc," Bernard said firmly. "And talk to Lupo."

"Seriously?"

"Soon," Bernard emphasized, and then he looked at me and asked, "So…are we ready?"

"Yeah, I think I'm good for now. Maybe we can come by again next weekend?" I asked Mulder.

"Hey, it's your crib," he replied easily.

"No, it's yours," I told him as I handed over my remaining key. He looked a little apprehensive, so I added, "Are you okay to be here by yourself?"

"Oh, check it, my boys are crashing later, right? It's all good."

"Jeremy and Aaron? Great. Just remember, if you make me lose my security deposit, I'm going to take it out of your ass."

So we left Mulder in his new place and went down to the car, heading for _our_ place.

"What do you want to do about your father?" Bernard asked me.

"Do I have to do anything? I mean, he doesn't know where to find me now, and…"

"Lauren…"

"I know," I said on a sigh. "I guess I'll call him, and we can meet him for dinner, if that's okay with you."

"He's not going to scare me away, if that's what you're worried about."

"He'll try," I warned as B parked the car down the block from his building.

"Let him," he replied. He shut off the engine and turned to look at me as he said, "You know, I think he's going about it the wrong way, but he's here because he cares. He's concerned about you."

"And if it's too little too late?"

"Then tell him that. Or don't. You can always just tolerate the visit and then send him on his way. If he only comes around once every thirteen years, then how bad can it be?"

"True," I conceded. "Okay, so…where were we? Oh, yeah. We were going up to consecrate your rug."

"We've got all of your stuff in the back," he reminded me.

"And I don't need any of it for _that_. Well…maybe my midnight cowboy."

He barked out a laugh and then got out of the car, coming around to open my door for me.

"You better keep that thing in the box," he said, still chuckling. "I'll be the only cowboy you need."

TBC...


	87. Chapter 87

**Mulder POV**

* * *

><p>"Sweet. Did you snoop?"<p>

"For what?"

"I don't know. Lingerie. Sex toys. Porn."

"Dude, seriously?" I asked, not sure whether Aaron was messing with me or not.

Because Detective Hayes wouldn't watch porn.

_Would she? _

"I'm sure she packed up the goodies," Jeremy stated. "But still…man, you're sleeping in her bed. I gotta tell you…I'm a little jealous."

"It's not like she's gonna be in there with me," I pointed out.

Not that I'd mind.

Although Jeremy's observation has my gears grinding because what would a guy like me have to offer a woman like her?

And no, I don't _literally_ mean her.

I know that would never happen, and I'm cool with that.

But I do worry about women _like_ her because that's who I'm going to want…someone sweet and smart and pretty.

But that's my problem.

Because a woman like that is probably going to have experience when it comes to sex, and now I'm wondering if I waited too long.

And it's not like I waited on purpose. It's just not something I really thought about. Not realistically, anyway.

I always figured that there wasn't much that was special about me, except for my mad skills on a computer, and my mom was always quick to back up that theory.

_"There's nothing wrong with living life in your computer, Norman, because the real world craps on guys like you."_

And I think she meant it in the nicest possible way...she's just afraid of what will happen to me in the _real world_.

But I think maybe she's wrong.

I think I can do better than virtual reality.

But still...up until very recently, friends and relationships and sex were always just a fantasy for me.

That's why I asked Bernard about the easy chick at the bar, because now that I've got a real job and friends and a place to live, I'm hoping that a relationship and sex won't be too far behind.

And I'm starting to think that maybe I should have a few practice rounds first.

But Bernard said no.

And he said that I should talk to Lupo.

I called him earlier, after Hayes and Bernard left, and before Jeremy and Aaron showed up with a couple of pizzas.

"_Dude, so_…_Bernard said we should talk_," I told Lupo when he answered.

"_He did? Um…yeah, I…yeah."_

"_Okay."_

"_Not on the phone,"_ he said. "_In person. You know, man to man_."

Man to man, meaning him and _me_.

He's so freaking cool.

"_Sure. Tomorrow?"_

"_I'm probably working, but I'll call you and we'll figure something out, okay?"_

"_Yeah, man, that works. I'm just going to be setting up my mainframe, right? So any time is good for me."_

"_How does it feel having your own place?"_

How does it feel?

Totally righteous.

And a little daunting.

Which is why I was glad to see the Ross brothers when they showed up, earlier than expected.

"I thought you were cooking dinner at home tonight," I commented after I let them in.

"That was the plan, but then my dad said he wanted to take Liz out, just the two of them. She's having a rough time with this Cecilia thing."

"You should've seen her in the morgue, after she left," Aaron remarked. "I've never seen her like that."

"It's good that you called Dad," Jeremy told him.

"Yeah. He's gotten good at the whole talking thing, hasn't he? And when I went to tell Liz about the run...jeez, I've never seen her like _that_, either!" Aaron said, shaking his head.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Dad was kissing her," Jeremy explained. Then he rolled his eyes at his brother and added, "Which is nothing compared to what he was doing when I walked in on them last weekend."

"Yeah, way too much information, bro. Just because you got damaged, doesn't mean you have to share it with me. I mean, I'm glad Dad's happy, but I don't need to see it, you know what I mean?"

"I walked in on Hayes and Bernard today," I told them.

"Gettin' their freak on?" Jeremy asked sharply. "Dude, and you waited until now to tell us?"

"You've been here like five minutes," I said, laughing at his excitement. "But no… but you know, shit, I think if I'd been a couple of minutes later, maybe so. And check it, they were out in the _hallway_."

"Fantasy material for later, right?" Aaron remarked. "I mean, you said she's smokin', so..."

"You really need to meet her," Jeremy said.

"So what happened with Cecilia?" I asked. "She seriously yelled at the doc?"

"She thinks that Liz is lying, and that she really is her mom," Jeremy explained.

"Yeah, and I can't believe you didn't tell me about this sooner," Aaron said to his brother. "I had no idea what the hell was going on."

"You know now," Jeremy said calmly. "I hate that she's so upset about it. Liz even tried to call her this afternoon, but she's not answering."

I could understand why it was bothering him so much.

The doc is this genuinely nice person with a really good heart and I'm not going to lie...I love the way she seems to count me as one of her stepsons.

Sort of, anyway.

I mean, she didn't mind me staying with them, and she wasn't embarrassed or mad when she heard me telling Aaron about that chick at the bar...she's just really cool.

"It's too bad we don't have that number," I said thoughtfully.

"What number? Cecilia's?" Jeremy questioned.

"Yeah, I mean...with the digits, I can hack the GPS signal and we could find where she's staying."

"Maybe play a little go-between," he said with a nod.

"Dude, you can really do that?" Aaron asked me.

"Are you kidding?" Jeremy replied. "Mulder's the fucking man with shit like that. You should've seen it this morning. I was sitting there, all cozied up with Hayes, and she's holding out her phone, wanting me to pretend like I was looking at something important. Of course, all I was thinking about was how close she was sitting, but anyway, suddenly she asks me if I'm looking at it and I hadn't been, but I did when she said it, and blam - right there on the screen was the security feed from the coffee shop camera."

"Okay…what?"

"I shit you not, man," Jeremy continued. "She'd called the master on her way to the cafe and asked him to hack it and route it to her phone."

"Holy shit," Aaron muttered, looking at me with admiration. "You really did that?"

"Pre-K shit, A," I said with a shrug. "I've creeped around in deeper shit than that. Much, _much_ deeper. Which is why I'm saying...if we had her digits, we'd be golden, right?"

"I've got 'em," Aaron said as a grin spread across his face.

"You do? How?"

"Liz had the piece of paper laying on her desk, and I saw it."

"So wait, you saw it once and you memorized it?" Jeremy asked him.

"You know me and numbers, dude. I can't help it. So yeah, I memorized it."

And that's how we found ourselves walking into a Brooklyn hotel bar at ten o'clock.

Because I'd pulled her GPS and it led us here.

"What are we going to say?" I asked as we looked around the moderately crowded bar.

"I don't know yet," Jeremy admitted. "Let's get a drink and think about it."

Oh, yeah.

That's the other thing.

I hooked him and Aaron up with some crazy-good creds.

Although, in my defense, I said no when they first asked me.

In the end, we struck a deal.

The creds stay at my place, and we only use them when we're out together.

And the chief will probably still kill me if he finds out, but...I don't know. I guess I want friends so badly that it's worth the risk.

And it's not that I think they'd be pissed at me if I said no, but this way we get to go out and have fun.

And as long as I make sure they're mostly responsible about it, then it can't really hurt, right?

I don't know.

Maybe I'll tell Lupo about it when I talk to him, and see what he says.

Using good judgment isn't exactly my strong suit.

I mean, shit…that's how I ended up in the clink, right? Well, lack of judgment and a really strong sense of curiosity.

So we sat down at the bar and we each ordered a beer, and I checked my phone again to see the update of the GPS ping.

"She's in here somewhere," I stated. "Or nearby. It can't pinpoint but so much, you know what I'm saying?"

Aaron had the benefit of having seen her earlier this morning, whereas Jeremy and I had each only seen pictures from her hacked juvie file, which was twelve years old, so we tried to stay casual while Aaron scoped out the place.

"Over there," Aaron said after a minute, nodding his head towards a small table near the back of the room.

The woman sitting there had her head down, looking at a tablet, so all I could really see of her was dark hair.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm telling you."

"Okay, I'll talk to her," I said, suddenly deciding to be brave.

"Are you kidding me?" Jeremy asked.

"Dude, I can do it. Besides, you're Liz's stepsons. She might feel more threatened by you."

"How would she know who we are?"

"She saw you this morning," I reminded Aaron. "She'll at least recognize you as someone who knows Liz. With me, I might be able to get my foot in the door before I start blowing her mind, right?"

"She's not going to believe you."

"Maybe not. But she's working on a tablet. If I need to, I can use that to pull up the medical records that prove to her Liz isn't her real mother."

"You're going to hack confidential medical records using a Motorola Xoom?"

"Tiddly winks, my friend," I replied. "It's not the vessel, it's the force behind it, you know what I'm saying? I can stalk POTUS with a Kindle if I feel the urge."

"Now you're just bragging," Jeremy said on a laugh. "But it's good. Chicks like a guy with a little self-confidence. Go for it."

"Seriously?" I asked, somewhat surprised that he was willing to let me handle something so important that didn't entirely involve a computer.

"Sure. But don't forget that Liz will still want to talk to her," Jeremy pointed out.

"I know. But the first step is getting her to realize that the doc is telling the truth, right?"

"Right, so do your thing," he agreed.

I got up from the bar stool and walked in Cecilia's direction, and as I crossed the room, I was nearly overcome with apprehension.

_What the hell am I doing?_

A - I don't talk to women. Or at least not women who haven't spoken to me first.

And B...do I really need a B?

I think A covers it pretty well.

_Talk normal,_ I reminded myself as I approached her table.

_**Be**__ normal_.

Easier said than done for a guy like me.

Shit…

"Hi," I managed to say.

Not very eloquent, but effective.

Cecilia looked up at me and stared blankly, as though she was waiting for me to say something else.

And I guess she was, since I'd interrupted her solitude.

"I'm Mulder," I said, and then I rediscovered my reason for avoiding conversation with the opposite sex. "I mean, that's not my real name but that's what my friends call me, or at least the friends that I have now, and I guess they're probably the only friends I've ever had because I didn't used to have any and so no one really called me anything, you know what I'm saying?"

I forced myself to end my ridiculous ramblings, and I realized that I was starting to sweat, and I shifted my weight from one foot to the other as I awaited her response.

_Don't tell me to get lost_, I silently begged.

I pushed my glasses back into place as I got up the nerve to make eye contact with her, and I nearly cried with relief when I saw her break into a smile.

She sat back in her seat and said, "Mulder. Like from the X-Files?"

"Yeah," I replied.

"I used to love that show," she admitted. I continued to stand there staring at her, and then I realized that she was looking me over, and I'm not sure if it was to make sure I wasn't some kind of serial killer or what, but after what felt like my entire life, she finally said, "Do you want to sit down?"

Seriously?

Holy shit.

And when did this little exercise turn into me trying to talk to a woman as opposed to me helping out the doc?

_Probably when I realized how cute Cecilia is…_

And then something else hit me.

I can't lie to her.

I mean, if the doc wants to befriend her, which I know she does, and I'm friends with the doc, then I can't turn this into a deceitful conversation where I pretend like I don't know who she is or why she's in the city.

"You're Cecilia, right?" I asked as I took the seat across from her.

Her smile vanished immediately and she looked at me suspiciously.

"Do I know you?"

"You know a friend of mine. And she doesn't know that I'm here, but lines got crossed between the two of you, and I'm hoping that I can help set things straight."

TBC...


	88. Chapter 88

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>She was working on the laptop when I entered the room.<p>

"Be done," I said firmly as I locked up behind me.

"You don't want to know what I found?"

"Nope."

"Really? Because it's pretty interesting."

"Okay, yes, I want to know," I admitted as I tugged on my tie, loosening the knot while at the same time, I stepped out of my shoes. "But later."

"Later. After…"

"After I've completely exhausted you and made you forget your own name," I said cockily. I tossed my tie onto the bed and then started unbuckling my belt as I added forcefully, "Now…_be done_."

"Feeling bossy tonight, huh?" she asked with a smirk, but even though her words slightly challenged my directive, she closed the laptop and got up from the chair.

She took a couple of steps toward me, but then stopped and watched as I pulled off my slacks and then went to work unbuttoning my shirt.

"I'm feeling like it's long past time for me to take control," I answered.

"It's only been three days," she countered, and if I weren't already aroused, the way she looked me over would've done the trick.

She swears she used to look at me like this…before we were lovers, I mean.

But I find that hard to believe. Surely I would've seen her.

Or felt the heat of her stare. Something.

But at the same time, it must be true because Alex doesn't lie.

And I suppose I stared hungrily at her a time or two over the years, too, and she never caught me.

"Which is two days too many," I stated with conviction.

Maybe even _three_ days too many, because I _like_ being in control in the bedroom. And she likes it, too.

She continued to stand there, watching me expectantly. I hadn't planned on getting completely undressed yet, but since I had her undivided attention and she seemed to be enjoying the show, I did.

After taking off the button-down, I pulled the t-shirt over my head, and then grabbed onto the waistband of my boxers and shoved them downward.

"Have it your way," she conceded submissively.

"That's the idea."

I advanced upon her like a predatory animal, ready to stake my claim, and the fact that she was perfectly willing to let me take over just made it that much better.

She stood still while I undressed her.

Or rather, _mostly_ still. She was shaking slightly, in anticipation I think, which caused me to slow things down even more.

In fact, I took it so slowly that I had her begging for me to finish her off.

That's a sound I'll never tire of hearing.

"You're _definitely_ back to full capacity," Alex remarked contentedly as we finally got underneath the covers.

And not that I'm bragging or anything, but it's been more than an hour since I got back to the room.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," I replied. I put my arm around her and pulled her up against me, so that she was snuggled against my side.

"Well, you know me…I'm a woman who likes action more than words."

She sighed and traced her fingers in random patterns across my chest.

I mimicked her movements, running my hand over her back and then up into her hair.

"Are you okay?" she asked me after a minute.

"Great. Why?"

"You're not talking."

"Well, you said you like action more than words, so I'm just riding things out until I'm ready for more action," I joked.

"Oh, you can talk in between," she said, looking up at me with a smirk on her face. "And during. In fact, I'll retract that statement. I like words _and_ action."

"Good. Okay, so I offered to give Mike a break tonight and let Carolyn join us," I told her conversationally. "But for some reason, he said no."

"Oh, really? So first you kiss her...twice, I might add. I'd forgotten about that second time when we mentioned it the other night. But anyway, so you kiss her twice, and now you're inviting her into your bed?"

"Into _our_ bed. You're invited, too," I said with a smile. "You know, I've never been with two women at once."

"You're a little late in life to start working on that fantasy. You should've knocked it out before you got with me."

"So that's a no?"

"You'll have to live vicariously through John's stories."

"Yeah," I said on a sigh as I pressed a kiss against the top of her head. "But you know what? I prefer enjoying my own reality."

"Nice save. So how's Mike doing?"

"Oh, so I'm talking about a threesome, and it makes you think about Mike?" I teased.

"You met him for a beer," she pointed out. "After which you came upstairs feeling like Don Juan, so I have to tell you...I'm really curious about that conversation."

"Actually, we talked about his father."

"He told you what my dad found?"

"Uh huh. Casey paid Shannon a lot of money over the years."

Money that Mike never saw, of course. He still had to work to put himself through college, without any help at all from Shannon.

"He was trying to support his son," she mused. "It's such a shame Mike didn't get the chance to meet the guy."

"I think he and Carolyn are flying down to Florida tomorrow to talk with the ex. She's living on a houseboat near Pensacola."

"Interesting. Do you think she'll know anything?"

"I'm not sure, but it's bugging Mike that Casey never looked him up. I guess he's hoping that Casey talked about it with Cathleen."

"What do you think?"

"I think Shannon probably told him some elaborate lie that kept him away."

She hummed her agreement, still stroking her fingernails over my chest in a way that had me thinking I'd be ready for action again much sooner than expected.

But not just yet.

"Oh, and John joined us for a round, too," I told her.

"Wait, let me guess. You asked him not to get married tomorrow."

It amazes me how well she knows me, and I couldn't keep from chuckling even though I replied, "Now why would I do that? You think I can't win a bet without trying to sway the action?"

"That's exactly what I think."

"Yeah, well, if it makes you feel better, I don't think our bet is going to have any effect on his wedding date. He told her he wanted to fly to London with her tomorrow, and get married over there, but you know, we've got this damn case."

"You're getting frustrated with it," she stated knowingly.

"Getting? I've been frustrated. Oh, and Mike has a theory, something we need to think about."

"What's that?"

"The brother's family. He thinks maybe Christina had them killed."

"Seriously?" she asked. "That's pretty brutal. Her own brother? Not to mention the four kids…I don't know, Bobby. Why would she do that?"

I explained to her about the idea that maybe the brother was also Brozi's son. Or at least, Christina might've thought it was a possibility. And in her desperation to take over the family business, she wanted to get rid of any potential competition.

"But I haven't figured out how Marco factors in," I admitted after I finished.

"Oh, that's right!" she said suddenly, sitting up in the bed. "You distracted me, and I completely forgot that I found something very interesting."

"I don't recall you complaining about it," I replied.

She rolled her eyes dramatically, and then said, "I did some digging on our pal Marco."

"What'd you find?"

"Hang on. First, for the record, let me say that we're not doing anything with this information tonight, okay?"

"You don't have to convince me," I agreed.

Because we've earned a night off.

We all have.

And if whatever she found was too important to sit on, then she'd never suggest otherwise, so I completely trust her judgment.

"Good. Okay, so it's a few things, actually. First off, Marco and Derek Gilmore were both living along the Outer Banks at the same time."

"North Carolina?"

"Uh huh."

"Yeah, but that's a big area. Sort of, anyway. It's narrow, but it's two hundred miles long. Of course, it's not all habitable…there's the national seashore, and a lot of marshland, and…"

"Bobby."

"Yeah?"

"Can I finish? Or do you want to quote the rest of the Wikipedia article on the Outer Banks?" she teased.

"Finish," I said in amusement. "I'll come back to the geography lesson later."

"Maybe," she said drolly. "Okay, so anyway, Marco worked in Manns Harbor. Any guess as to where he was employed?"

"Well, he works on the docks now, so I'd guess in one of the ports."

"Not even close. He worked as a range expert at the Outer Banks Shooting Club."

"Huh. And that's not in his file?"

"He was paid in cash. I had to do a little digging, and make a couple of phone calls."

"Nice work, Detective," I said with a grin. "Keep going."

"Well, so we've got Marco in Manns Harbor, and then in Nags Head, only fifteen miles away, there's a Coast Guard station."

"Gilmore," I said with a nod.

"Yep. He was there for six months, five of which overlap with the time that Marco was in the area."

"Interesting," I said thoughtfully.

"Nope," she said with a smile.

"Nope, what?"

"That's not the interesting part."

"It gets better?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, smiling broadly as she reached up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

And okay, call me weird, but this right here…solving a case with my wife while we're naked in bed together…_this_ is what life's all about.

I mean, the rush of excitement is the best aphrodisiac and feel-good drug in the world.

"Guess who else once lived in the area," she said.

"Another player was in the Outer Banks at the same time?"

"That's what I'm saying."

"Christina?"

"Guess again," she encouraged as she moved over me so that she was straddling my hips. "And if you get it right, you'll get a prize."

"Tell me again why we never used to solve our cases like this?" I said teasingly.

"Because you were a big chicken."

"So were you."

"Maybe," she agreed. "So…"

"I'm thinking," I replied, settling my hands on her thighs as she shifted against me, and I closed my eyes, thinking about the case while still cataloguing the feel of her.

"Do you want a hint?" she asked, and then she leaned over me and started kissing my cheek, my jaw, the side of my neck…

"No. Yes. No."

She chuckled but continued her assault on me, and I kept my eyes shut, enjoying the unexpectedness of where she might kiss next.

And yet, I'll admit it. I was still thinking about the case.

I absolutely love that we seem to be able to do both.

Or at least, for a little while.

I have no doubt that once she takes me in, I won't be able to spell Albanian, much less put together a diagram of the key players.

"She's managed to stall the interrogation for how many days now?" Alex asked after another minute, and at her words, my eyes flew open.

"Bailey?" I asked in surprise. "The US Attorney?"

"I'm not saying he's dirty. And I'm not saying he's done anything wrong," she explained quickly. "But…"

"But he was in the Outer Banks at the same time as Gilmore and Marco?"

"Uh huh. He took a six-month sabbatical from the Eastern District US Attorney's office in Raleigh, and when he came back to work, he was transferred to New York."

"Wow. Okay…so we're saying he knows Marco? And Gilmore? Which by extension would mean that maybe he knew Christina before she went to him with dirt on Demachi?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Or it could be one big coincidence."

"It could be. Because still…Outer Banks. Two hundred miles long…"

"During his leave, he rented a house in Kill Devil Hills. Five miles from the Nags Head Coast Guard station."

TBC...


	89. Chapter 89

**Cutter POV**

* * *

><p>Sunday morning.<p>

I have a routine that I stick to fairly religiously.

Out of bed by seven-thirty.

Half-hour treadmill workout.

Shower.

Walk four blocks to a cafe where I read the Times while eating a bagel and drinking coffee.

After that, what happens is anyone's guess and highly dependent upon my current workload, but the first three hours or so are set.

Until this particular Sunday morning.

Because when I woke up, the clock said eight-fifteen.

And I had a warm female body pressed against my backside.

The only way this situation might have been improved upon is if we were naked.

But even with the scant clothes between us, it was without a doubt the best way I've awakened in a very long time.

Years, maybe even.

I certainly wasn't going to give my treadmill a second thought.

Not when Jennifer's arm was wrapped around me, with her hand resting against my chest.

As I became aware of my surroundings, I felt her stir slightly. She stretched while keeping her body against mine and then tightened her hold on me.

All I wanted to do was turn over and throw the covers off of us before divesting her of the gym shorts and my Rutgers t-shirt that made up her sleeping attire.

And okay, so that's not _all_ I want to do.

But getting her naked is the first step, and after that, there's a whole long list of what I'd want to do _next_.

Because I really, _really_ like her.

And I'm pretty sure she feels the same way.

I mean, she's here. For the second night in a row. And this time, we were in my bed instead of on the couch.

_And_ we'd stuck to our no-sex rule, which believe me…it was damn near impossible.

Although I'll admit it. I've had quite a bit of experience with women over the past fifteen years, but I've never gotten so much enjoyment just from kissing.

And maybe it's because we've put that rule into place for the time being, I don't know.

Maybe pulling sex off the table has made everything else that much more pleasurable.

Last night, she showed up at my apartment right at five.

She was wearing tennis shoes, shorts and a tank top. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she had a large duffle bag slung over her shoulder.

"_I'm not moving in, I promise_," she said, sounding somewhat self-conscious.

As if I'd mind.

"_You had time to go back to your place?" _

"_I made time. I was running out of clothes. But I didn't have time to take my stuff to the safe house, so please don't think I'm being presumptuous or anything. I just…"_

"_It's fine_," I assured her as I let her in.

She walked a few feet into the apartment, and then stopped, turning to look at me apologetically.

"_I hope so, because I'm going to have to hit you up for the use of your shower, too. And I know…nothing sexier than showing up for a date after a workout, right? But even though I didn't have time to go to the safe house, after I took the car I borrowed back to 1PP, it was still too early to come here, so I decided to go for a run first, and I_…"

"_It's fine_," I said again, smiling at her rambling nervousness. I held out my hand and said, "_Give me the bag_."

She handed over the duffle, which I promptly set on the floor, and then I stepped into her, bringing my hands up to her cheeks as I went in for the kiss.

Because really…at the first sight of her, kissing her was foremost in my mind.

Not even just foremost.

It was the _only_ thing on my mind.

Well, in addition to the fact that I was insanely pleased she'd shown up at my place _not_ ready for our date.

I mean, she must have left her bag at 1PP while she went for her run, so when she went back to pick it up, she could've used the locker room there.

But she didn't. Instead, she came here.

That spelled comfort and familiarity well beyond our one-date history.

So after a long hello kiss, I'd shown her to my bedroom, where I put her bag on the bed next to the royal blue Mets jersey I'd pulled out for her.

"_Take your time_," I encouraged, pointing towards the bathroom just off the bedroom. "_The game doesn't start until seven-thirty. Do you want something to drink_?"

"_I was wondering if you were going to offer me any bourbon_," she teased as she toed off her shoes.

I lingered in the doorway, knowing that I needed to leave and yet not in any hurry to do so.

"_I'm actually almost out,"_ I admitted. I'd planned to pick some up earlier, but the day got away from me. "_We nearly killed it last night."_

"_It's a good thing I didn't come empty handed then_," she replied as she unzipped her bag.

She pulled out a bottle of Michter's and held it out to me, so I crossed the room again, and as I took the bourbon from her hand, she reached out with her other hand and grabbed onto my shirt, holding me in place while she slowly moved in for a kiss.

Some of our earlier intensity was gone, and yet this kiss was even more arousing…even more promising.

I was suddenly struck by the intimacy of the moment, standing in my bedroom, sharing a steamy kiss.

"_I guess I'd better get in the shower_," she said quietly when she pulled away.

"_Uh huh_," I agreed reluctantly. _"I'll go pour us a drink."_

So I'd headed for the kitchen where I tried desperately _not_ to picture her getting undressed…stepping into the shower…water droplets careening over her skin…

Clearly I failed miserably and yet it wasn't too upsetting.

Because let me tell you…the visual was downright inspirational.

After about fifteen minutes, I heard her call my name, so I went down the hall to my bedroom. The door was open about a foot, but I still stayed out in the hall.

"_Do you need something_?" I asked her.

She pulled the door fully open and my senses were blitz attacked by the onslaught of stimulation.

The room was filled with an intoxicating aroma, most likely from whatever shower gel she'd brought with her, because it certainly didn't smell like anything I keep in my bathroom. Mixed with the moist air in the room, the scent seemed to have taken on a life of its own.

And looking at her, as she stood in front of me dressed in faded jeans and a white tank top – one that was completely different from the athletic-type shirt she'd arrived in…this one had thin straps and lace along the top edge, and it was clinging to her because of her still-damp skin – looking at her like _that_ in combination with the smell of…whatever it was…made me instantly and nearly painfully hard.

And maybe that simplifies my feelings too much.

Because I was also feeling a sense of need that had nothing whatsoever to do with sex, and honestly, it was too scary to analyze it any further than that.

I mean, I've known her for less than a week.

"_I was thinking_," she began, smiling at me as she held the bright blue jersey in her hands.

"_Should I be worried?"_ I joked, trying desperately to assuage my arousal.

"_Probably,"_ she said on a laugh. "_But actually, this time it's harmless enough. I just thought that this one would look really good on you."_

She tilted her head to one side as she held up the jersey towards me, and then she nodded and added, "_Uh huh. Just as I thought. It makes your eyes look the exact same color."_

"_You don't have to flatter me to get out of wearing the jersey_," I teased.

And really, it wasn't a tease. If she wanted to stay in the negligible white shirt that accentuated her femininity, then I was perfectly fine with it.

"_Oh, I want to wear a jersey,"_ she explained. Then she grabbed onto my shirt again, like she'd done earlier, when she kissed me. "_But I want this one_."

So I pulled off my shirt, the white one with the blue pinstripes…a treasured relic from 1986, which was the last time the Mets won the Series.

"_You don't mind_?" she asked me, and it was a nice ego boost to notice that even though she took the proffered shirt from my hand, her eyes were busy looking me over.

Of course, my eyes were on her, too. And how the wet ends of her hair randomly sent rivulets of water running beneath the lacy edge of her tank top.

"_I don't mind_," I promised, and the huskiness of my own voice surprised me, and I guess it surprised her, too, because her expression changed, like maybe she just realized that my control was hanging on by a thread.

"_Thanks,_" she said quietly as she handed me the blue shirt. "_I'll hurry up so that we can get out of here. We wouldn't want to miss the first inning."_

"_Well, there are nine of them," _I countered with a smirk as I pulled the shirt over my head. "_It won't kill us to miss one or two."_

But we didn't.

She finished getting ready, and we left my apartment, and we made it to Shea Stadium by seven o'clock. And I know…it's Citi Field now. But to me, it'll always be Shea.

We had a great time at the game, even though the Mets lost.

We ate hot dogs and drank beer and I gave her a crash course on the finer points of the game.

Afterwards, we took the train back into Manhattan.

"_This was a lot of fun,"_ she commented as I unlocked my apartment door.

"_Are you saying the date's over_?" I asked, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Even though we hadn't talked about it, I'd really been hoping that she'd stay the night again.

She lingered in the foyer, looking hesitant as she stated, "_It's getting late._ _I'll just get my bag and…"_

"_Stay,"_ I reasoned, deciding to be open about my feelings on the matter. "_We managed to behave ourselves last night, so there's no reason why we can't again tonight_."

So she stayed.

And maybe I was a little too flippant when I stated that we'd be able to behave ourselves again.

Because it was tough.

Really tough.

Especially when, after going into my room to change clothes, she came back out wearing a pair of cotton shorts and my Rutgers t-shirt.

"_I probably should've asked first, but…"_ she said somewhat self-consciously. _"I couldn't help myself. I had the thought as soon as I saw you wearing this earlier today." _

"_You wanted to steal my shirt?"_

"_I wanted to sleep in it. Tonight. When I stayed the night,"_ she confessed.

Personally, I'd rather her sleep _out_ of it, but it was probably best if I don't see her naked just yet.

It would most definitely be the final straw for my control.

"_My Rutgers shirt, my Mets jersey…you have a thing for men's wear?"_ I teased.

"_I like the way you smell_," she answered, surprising me with her honesty.

"_I was thinking the same thing about you, but I'm not going to start sleeping in your shirts,"_ I replied as I walked down the hall to where she stood in the bedroom doorway.

"_That would be kind of weird_," she said with a smirk, holding her ground even as I crowded her personal space.

I let my gaze wander over her, like I've done at least a hundred times already tonight, and the desire hit me just as hard as it does every time.

Maybe harder.

Sleeping in the same bed with her was going to be pure torture.

And it was.

Wonderful, enticing, erotic, sensuous torture.

And now, considering the intensity of my hard-on this morning, I realize that I'm going to have to take matters into my own hand – _soon_ - if I want to hang onto any semblance of sanity.

Because as much as I've enjoyed the extended foreplay, I _do_ have needs.

And right now, the need is practically overwhelming.

So as much as I would've liked to stay in the bed…would've liked to relieve my pressing need in what would surely be an extremely satisfying manner, I'm a realistic man.

And that's _not_ going to happen this morning.

Not only that, but when it does, I don't want to be so far gone that I act like a teenage virgin, barely able to get out of my jeans before blast-off, so later on, when I have time alone, I'll have to take the edge off.

But I'm certainly not going to do that while she's _here_, so for now, the best thing I can do is take a cold shower.

A really, _really_ cold one.

I moved away from her embrace and got up from the bed.

I grabbed a clean pair of boxers from the dresser drawer and then went into the bathroom and quietly closed the door.

I stripped out of my t-shirt and boxers that I slept in last night, and then I got in the shower and closed the opaque glass door behind me before turning on the water.

Without having any time to warm up, the water was frigid.

Exactly what I needed.

I stood for a moment, letting the icy water run over me, and even though it was counterproductive, I couldn't help but think about her.

_I've really got it bad_, I thought, stepping closer to the spray so that it poured down over my head.

Because not only am I thinking about how she rocked her hips against mine while we kissed or how her skin felt when I slid my hands beneath her shirt, but I'm also thinking about how good it felt to hold her as she fell asleep and how gratifying it was to wake up with her next to me.

Five minutes of cold water did nothing to alleviate my pressing issue.

_It'd probably help if you quit thinking about her_, I chastised as I wondered if I could get hypothermia in a shower.

I shook my head at my odd mental musings, and then reached for the shampoo, but then promptly dropped it when I heard the bathroom door open.

"Mike? I'm sorry to barge in on you, but your phone was ringing. I didn't answer it, because I figured you wouldn't want me answering your phone, but I checked the caller ID just so I could let you know, and…you know, I probably shouldn't have even looked at that, should I? I'm sorry…I have trouble sometimes when it comes to boundaries, and I…"

"Jenn," I interrupted as amusement overrode my sense of panic at the idea that she's one clouded-glass door away from getting quite an eyeful.

And of course, _that_ knowledge immediately reversed what little bit of progress I'd made towards settling things down…

"Yeah?"

"Who was it?"

"Oh, it said Detective Hayes. That's Lauren, right? Bernard's girlfriend?"

"That's her," I answered. I'd called her yesterday afternoon, after missing her during the day at 1PP, and I had to leave a voicemail. I still haven't brought her up to speed on the latest in the Flowers' case.

"The blackmail case?" Jennifer asked, and from the sound of it, she'd come fully into the room and was now literally just on the other side of the door.

"No, it's…something else."

"Oh."

"No, I mean it's…I can't talk about it. It's personal. Well, not _personal_ personal, but…"

Apparently it was my turn to ramble, but I didn't want her to think it was any kind of _inappropriate_ personal.

I was relieved to hear her chuckling.

"You think I think you're two-timing me with Detective Hayes?" she teased.

"No, I just don't like giving ambiguous answers."

"You know, I asked Connie her secret to cops and lawyers having a good relationship," she commented.

"And?" I asked, surprised that she and Connie had found the time for that kind of discussion.

And that Connie hadn't mentioned it to me.

"Acceptable secrets," she stated. "And trust."

While I thought about that, I reached out and turned the nozzle to _hot_ since my cold-shower theory wasn't panning out.

"Sounds like sage advice," I said. And then I added, "So is that what we're doing? Working on a relationship?"

"Aren't we? Because otherwise I think we're having a _really_ dysfunctional two-night stand."

I barked out a laugh, finally relaxing a little under the rapidly warming water.

"And did you call me Jenn earlier?" she continued.

"I did. You don't like it?"

"No, I do. It's good."

"Good. And for the record, I like that you have no sense of boundaries," I admitted. "You're honest and upfront and…"

I trailed off when she pulled open the shower door.

_I guess I'd given her the green light for no boundaries…_

"Can I give you a hand with anything?" she asked, her gaze purposefully locked on mine. "Because you know, just because we said no _sex_…"

I grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into the shower with me.

I interrupted her surprised laugh by covering her mouth with mine as I held both of her hands in mine, up against the tile wall.

And if I thought I'd been ready to explode _before_…

I let go of her hands and instead grabbed onto her backside, running my hands over the saturated cotton fabric and then up underneath the t-shirt as I dragged my lips down her throat.

"I was going to get undressed first," she said, sounding both amused and aroused at the same time.

"Uh uh. I don't want to see you until I can have you," I insisted, and my words came out as nearly a growl.

"Mike," she sighed, tipping her head back against the wall as I continued my assault on her and I don't know when I turned into _this_ guy…the one who's just completely consumed by passion.

"Mike," she said again, this time more forcefully, causing me to stop what I was doing. I brought my eyes to hers and she ran her hand lightly over my cheek as she smiled and said, "This is about _you_."

Before I could argue – as if I would argue – she turned us around so that it was my back up against the wall.

And then, very deliberately, she let her gaze drop to the area which currently housed all ten pints of blood in my body.

Her hand followed the same path as her eyes and for a brief moment, I thought it was going to be over in a matter of seconds, but I managed to hold off.

And in my defense, she was standing in front of me wearing soaking wet clothing that left very little to the imagination.

_And_ she was stroking her hand over me…

"Besides, we're halfway through my goal of two weeks," she said after another minute or so of ecstasy. "I think we deserve some kind of reward, don't you?"

_Yes!_

But I didn't say it out loud.

I couldn't say anything at all because as she asked the rhetorical question, she got down on her knees.

_Holy Mary, mother of God…_

I was still thinking about our shower activities three hours later as I sat in a diner and waited for Detective Hayes.

I can't help it. It was that good.

Maybe there's something to be said for anticipation.

"I heard about what you did."

"What?" I asked in surprise, looking up to see Hayes watching me as she sat down at the table.

"Oh, sure. Be coy about it. You're not fooling anyone, Counselor."

I continued to stare at her, and I could feel my face getting red as I thought, _would Jennifer tell her something like that_? _Already_?

Besides, she barely knows Hayes.

"I'm…um…"

"Lupo's going to have to watch out, or Mulder's going to start calling you McClane if you keep throwing yourself in the line of fire."

Ah…the shooting.

"I think his title is safe," I replied in relief.

"We'll see," she said. "So…sorry we kept missing each other yesterday. Sounds like it was crazy all the way around, and then last night…"

She trailed off, looking annoyed, and then the waitress stopped by to fill our coffee cups.

"Last night?" I asked once we were alone again.

"My father decided to make a surprise visit."

"You two don't get along?"

"Oh, we get along fine as long as I play the role of the perfect daughter."

"Which you didn't," I supplied with a knowing grin.

I don't know Hayes all that well, either, but I know enough. I know she's got a whole hell of a lot of fight in her, and I don't picture her ever catering to anyone else's vision of her.

"Definitely not. And he was rude to Bernard, and horrified that I'm moving in with him, and appalled by my so-called pagan lifestyle…oh, you know what? You didn't come here to listen to me bitch about my father."

"No, but feel free," I offered. "I've got time."

She laughed at my unexpected response, but then she grew serious as she said, "I'm guessing you have news about Flowers, right?"

"Detective Benson found something. Or rather, she mentioned it and Connie followed up," I explained. She nodded and sat back in the booth, looking strong and yet vulnerable at the same time, and it was that vulnerability that prompted me to ask, "Where's Bernard?"

"He's working. I'm fine. Just tell me."

"The Wild Turkey…it was on the first girl," I said, purposely _not_ saying victim. "And you mentioned it, too."

"Right. But that's just circumstantial, right? I mean, how many men drink Wild Turkey?"

"It's the sign of a pattern. We only have your statement as for how it relates to your instance, but the first girl _and_ the third both had it stained on their clothing. It's documented."

"So it ties them together."

"And you, by virtue of your testimony. If it had to be missing somewhere, it's good that it was from you because you're the only one around to tell your story."

She nodded solemnly, and I felt bad for being so blunt, but I wasn't going to waste her time by beating around the bush.

"Detective..."

"Lauren," she interrupted. "You know the intimate details about my case. I think we're long past using titles."

"And we're friends," I pointed out, needing to remind her of that fact. Just because I don't know her as well as I'd like, we _are_ still friends. Or at least our _friends_ are friends. Hell, I don't know.

"Yes, we are," she said, stopping my mental insecurities as she reached out to lightly touch my arm before picking up her coffee cup. "I'm sorry. I just get so keyed up about this, and then last night...never mind. Okay, so you were saying?"

"I'm saying that I think we can make the evidence work for us," I stated. I paused for a moment, and then I added the kicker. "_Without_ going to trial."

"But I don't want him to get a deal," she said firmly. "I want him to admit to what he did, on the record. I don't want it swept under the rug while he quietly spends a few more years in prison."

"Lauren," I said calmly, and then I waited for her to look me in the eye. "He'll have to allocute. In court. And I can make sure he says as much or as little as you want him to say about exactly what happened. There'll be a record. And he'll go to prison for life."

She continued to stare at me, her eyes luminous and steely. I don't know why I'd been expecting tears, but I certainly didn't get them.

"Why? Why is your way better?"

Her question caught me by surprise.

Isn't it obvious?

"Because you wouldn't have to take the stand," I replied. "There won't be a jury or an audience. It'll just be him and the judge and the lawyers. And you, if you want to be there."

"I need to think about it."

Now it was my turn to stare and after a moment, she finally dropped her eyes, sighing heavily as she asked, "What?"

"I don't get it. I'm offering you the best of both scenarios. The presence of the liquor and the weapon used and the type of attack and his statement from your visit at the prison...all of those things will make this work for us. He won't be getting out. And you won't have to go through being on the witness stand."

She nodded her head, still without looking at me, and then she finally brought her eyes up to mine, and even though I'd expected it earlier, now I was surprised to find them flooded with unshed tears.

"What if I'm wrong?"

"Wrong? About what?"

"What if it was partially my fault?"

I suddenly desperately wished that Connie was here with me. This was her area of expertise...showing compassion and understanding and knowing the right thing to say. Me, I'm just the hard ass prosecutor.

And why didn't I wait until Bernard could come with her? He'd know what to say.

But after a moment, I stopped panicking when it hit me that I know what to say, too.

"You want a trial so that you can have twelve strangers tell you that what he did was wrong, and that you didn't do anything to deserve it?" I began carefully. "You don't need a jury to tell you that. You know it already. And like you said, I've read your file, so I know the truth, too. So does Connie. And Bernard. You need twelve people to tell you that? I can call up more than that right now."

"But my father..."

"You told him about it? And he blames you?" I asked in surprise. What kind of father would say something like that?

"Not in so many words, but...yeah."

"Then your father's a complete moron. "

She stared at me for a minute, ignoring the tears that were now spilling from her eyes, and then she let out a little laugh, shaking her head as she said, "Yeah, maybe he is."

"Not maybe. Definitely. Lauren, there's no excuse for what that man did. You did absolutely nothing wrong, but even if you did...it doesn't matter. I don't care if you came onto him or were dressed provocatively or even if you said yes and then changed your mind. The facts are that he beat you and he held you against your will while he did unspeakable things to you. It should be punishable by death, but it's not, so the best we can do is lock him up for life, and I want to do that while causing _you_ as little grief as possible, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed with a nod.

"Are you listening to me, or just agreeing so that I'll shut up?"

She smiled and said, "I'm listening."

"Good. Because you're much too smart of a woman to believe a line of crap like what your father suggested."

She fell silent as the waitress stopped by again to refill our cups, and I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.

Did I handle that right? Does she truly believe what I'm telling her?

I think so.

_And now I have to make damn sure I can deliver on my promise_, I reminded myself. There's no way I can let her down.

"Talk about something else," she said once the waitress was gone. "I need to get my mind right."

"Oh. Um...okay," I stumbled, having been thrown by her yet again. She wants to just chat? What would Connie and I talk about?

"Relax," she said on a laugh. "I'm not going to have a breakdown on you. It's just that I'm meeting my father after I leave here, and I'm way too tense to deal with him."

Her father. I despise him already, on her behalf.

"I had a second date last night," I confessed. "With Jennifer Dunn."

"Ah, the inspector," she said with a smile. "I hear good things about her. So how'd that go?"

"We took in a Mets game. I'm trying to teach her about baseball."

"Is it working?"

"I think so. She seems to like it."

"Or maybe she just likes you."

My mind briefly flashed back to our shower this morning.

_Yeah, I think maybe she likes me a little._

"It's going well, which is a nice change for me," I admitted. And then I decided to throw discretion to the wind, just this once, since it might actually help Lauren. "She spent the night."

"Oh," she responded in surprise. "Um..."

"I don't mean like that. She stayed because she didn't want to go back to the safe house. And I'm proving a point here."

"Okay."

"She willingly stayed in my apartment, in my bed...but even then, if I'd pushed her to do something she didn't want to do..."

"It still wouldn't have been okay," she finished. "Yeah, you know, I see it when it's other people."

"Then see it with yourself, too."

She took another sip from her coffee cup and then sat back in the seat and said, "You're easy to talk to. Thanks."

I felt inordinately pleased by her compliment, probably because I've always considered myself too work-oriented to be any good at personal relationships.

And now I have _two_ women friends, in addition to the woman I'd like to call my girlfriend.

"Any time."

TBC...


	90. Chapter 90

**Liz POV**

* * *

><p>I knocked on the door, and then stood back and waited patiently, since I hadn't warned him that I was on my way.<p>

I hadn't even needed him to buzz me in.

Instead, I'd flashed my medical examiner's badge at a woman who was leaving the building. She looked sufficiently horrified that my services were possibly needed somewhere inside, and she let me in.

Silly, really, since if my services were needed, there'd surely be police on the scene, but I guess she didn't consider that.

Anyway, so that's how I found myself outside of Mulder's apartment at ten-thirty on Sunday morning, unannounced and waiting for him to open the door.

It took a couple of minutes.

When I heard footsteps approaching the door, I took one step back, so that I'd be easily visible through the peephole, and then I crossed my arms over my chest.

He opened the door, a look of surprise on his face, and before he could speak, I narrowed my eyes at him and asked, "What did you do?"

"Um…oh, I…um…what do you mean?" he finally managed to say.

And I have to give him points for not confessing right away.

I mean, I _know_ what he did, but _he_ doesn't know that I know.

And I was obviously intimidating him, which was my intent, and yet despite his continuous shifting from one foot to the other and his inability to string together a coherent sentence, he was holding my gaze and not backing down.

_Good boy_, I thought.

"Cecilia called me this morning," I told him.

"Oh. Do you…um…want to come in?" he offered, finally opening the door fully to allow me entry. And once he did, I realized why he'd been mostly hiding behind the door.

He was wearing Star Wars pajama pants.

I don't know why that knowledge tugged at my heart, but it did, and I found myself rethinking my hard-ass routine.

Sort of.

I glanced around the foyer, looking down towards the kitchen as I said, "I'm assuming your partners in crime are here somewhere?"

"They're in the living room, still asleep."

"Probably because you boys had a late night, right?"

I turned to face him again, still debating about whether or not to let him off the hook, when he threw up the white flag.

"Look, Doc…I mean, um…Mrs.…um…Dr. Rodgers," he stammered.

He's back to calling me Dr. Rodgers?

_Oh my God_…maybe I overestimated his level of confidence.

I was planning to treat him as I would Jeremy or Aaron – making sure to get the point across about _not_ interfering in other people's lives _before_ admitting that this one time the interference was a good thing.

But he was crumbling right before my eyes, and I felt a wave of guilt.

"For heaven's sake, Mulder. Call me Liz."

"I'm sorry. Liz," he said. And before I could respond, he added, "I…it was my idea."

"What was your idea?" I asked curiously, wanting to see how he chose to handle himself.

"Tracking Cecilia by her cell phone number, and then going after her," he answered as he stood up a little straighter. "It was my idea, and I'm really sorry if it didn't work, but please don't be mad at Jeremy and Aaron."

I didn't point out that he spoke in plain English for probably the first time ever since I met him.

I couldn't.

I was too choked up by the fact that not only was he taking the responsibility even when he thought there would be serious repercussions, but also that he looked like an anxiety attack waiting to happen and yet he still stood his ground.

And I know he's not my son, or even my stepson, but I'm still proud of him and I couldn't resist hugging him.

"I'm not mad at any of you," I told him as he stood still, his arms hanging loose at his sides.

I guess I took him by surprise with my show of affection, but then just as I started to let him go, he timidly hugged me back.

After another moment, I let him go and then ran my hand over the top of his head, ruffling his hair as I said, "But don't do it again, okay? I have to keep saying that with you boys."

He broke into a nervous grin and said, "I'm sorry. I know we shouldn't have gotten involved, but…it worked, right? I mean, you said she called, and now you look kind of happy, so…"

I nodded but didn't elaborate, and then I turned around, taking in what little bit I could see of his apartment.

"How do you like having your own place?"

"It's mad awesome, right? I mean, shit, Doc, it's just…I can be my own man now."

"Yes, you can," I agreed. "I don't suppose you have any coffee."

He nodded enthusiastically, so I suggested that he get it started while I go motivate the sleeping inhabitants of the living room. Because I wanted to hear the whole story from last night, and as much as Mulder was willing to take the heat for it, I know he had help.

Not that I'm mad.

But I want to get the details before I meet Cecilia for lunch, which is in a little over an hour.

The living room was comfortable-looking and even though I could tell it still held Lauren's influence, it worked well for Mulder, too. No girlie accessories or feminine décor.

And of course, now that décor also included two pizza boxes on top of the coffee table, shoes scattered underneath the table, and a pair of jeans thrown over the arm of the recliner. Jeremy was stretched out in the recliner with an afghan tossed over him, and Aaron was sprawled on the sofa, both of them still sound asleep.

I had the insane urge to shout into a bullhorn or something, but instead I walked around to the coffee table and shoved the pizza boxes out of the way so that I could sit on the edge of it, and then I cleared my throat loudly.

Surprisingly enough, that did it.

Jeremy opened one eye, and when he saw me, he immediately sat up in the chair and then reached over and chucked his brother on the arm.

"What, man?" Aaron groused, rolling towards me as he opened his eyes, and then he quickly sat up, too, and asked, "Okay, how much trouble are we in?"

"From me? You'll survive. But if you don't get your ass in gear and head back to Albany, I have a feeling your mother's going to rip you a new one. When do your exams start?"

"Not for another week. And it's only a two-hour drive," he pointed out. "And I can be out of here by…what time is it?"

"Ten-thirty," I said with a smirk. "So yeah, I think you'll be alright. But ace those exams, okay? I don't want her finding out about your field trip and then blaming any slipping of the grades on me. And you know she will."

"Or me," Jeremy added with a sly grin. Then he looked at me cautiously and said, "So you're really not mad?"

"That's the same thing Mulder asked me. So tell me this…if you all expected me to get ticked, then why the hell did you do it anyway?"

At my exasperated question, the floodgate was opened.

There was a cacophony of _we're sorry, but_…and _you were so upset_…and _she needed to hear the truth_…and _we wanted to help…_and then I finally held up my hand and said, "Enough!"

They both instantly stopped talking, with identical perplexed expressions on their faces and honestly, I'm glad that I'm _not_ really mad at them because even if I were, I'm not sure I'd be able to do anything about it when they're both so earnest and so damn cute.

Mulder, too, for that matter, who had chosen that moment to come into the living room, carrying what was clearly something left behind by Lauren – a large silver serving tray, on which he'd put four cups of coffee.

I had images of him stumbling and sending the hot brew flying across the room, but he managed to walk around the sofa and hand out the cups before shoving the pizza boxes to the floor and taking a spot next to me on the coffee table.

"I'm meeting Cecilia for lunch today," I said. "And she said that she now believes me, and that she's interested in hearing what I have to say. So…thank you."

They all smiled at each other and high-fived until I said, "But…"

"But?"

"Your Hardy Boys days are over, okay?" I instructed firmly.

"Um…Liz?" Aaron asked hesitantly.

"What?"

"Who're the Hardy Boys?"

I rolled my eyes and said. "Amateur detectives. _Teenagers_. And I appreciate that you wanted to help me, I really do, but I don't want you going behind my back again. Understood?"

I looked around as all three of them ducked their heads in defense of my rebuke, and Mulder's words from earlier echoed in my head.

_I can be my own man_.

In his new apartment.

Where I'd just chastised him like a child.

"Good," I continued, adopting a casual tone. "Okay, so tell me about last night, because Mulder…Cecilia couldn't stop talking about you."

A slight exaggeration maybe, but not much of one, and the look on his face was well worth the stretch.

Because just like that, the mood shifted again, and I took a sip from coffee that was more like dishwater while I listened to the them recount their adventure.

"Okay, so check it," Jeremy said, sounding exactly like Mulder. "My man got the GPS locked up, right? It led us out to the King's Hotel, so we hit up the bar, and Aaron spotted her."

"Yeah, I mean, she was kind of cute, right? I mean, in a thirty-something kind of way," Aaron said when I raised an eyebrow at him. "Anyway, there weren't a lot of single chicks in the place, so I was able to narrow it down, you know?"

"So then, get this," Jeremy picked up. "After A points her out, Mulder says he's going in."

"Really," I responded, looking over at Mulder.

His face reddened a little bit, and he shrugged before saying, "It's no BFD, right?"

"He was smooth, too, Liz," Aaron said. "He went right over there and within ten seconds, he was sitting down at the table with her."

"While you and Jeremy were…"

"Oh, we were just chillin' at the bar," he replied.

"Drinking club soda," Jeremy added.

"Uh huh. We'll come back to that. So what did you say to her, Mulder?"

He told me how he'd planned to get her talking first, before coming clean about his reason for being there, but then how at the last second, he realized he couldn't lie.

"And she seemed upset when I mentioned you, but she listened," he concluded, and he seemed surprised by that fact.

"Because she thinks you're cute," I told him.

"Dude!" Aaron shouted, holding up his hand for Mulder to smack it. "I told you!"

But Mulder looked at me skeptically and asked, "That's what you're saying?"

"That's what _she_ said. She sounded a little irritated by it, too. Like she thinks I sent you there to sweet-talk her."

"_As soon as he said my name, I knew you were behind it. I wanted to tell him to go the hell away_."

"_But you didn't. Why not_?" I'd asked her, expecting her to say that maybe curiosity got the better of her, or she realized that maybe I was telling the truth after her emotions settled down.

"_Because he's cute_," she said instead in annoyance. "_And if you knew anything at all about me, which you don't, then you'd know that it's been a long damn time since I had a drink and nice conversation with a cute guy. So I decided to hear him out."_

"So she didn't give him the boot because she was snakin' on him?" Jeremy asked me, and then he looked at Mulder and said, "Dude, you didn't say she was looking for a hook-up."

"She wasn't," he answered. "Shit, we just talked, and I told her about how she had the wrong idea about Liz, and that she needed to give you a chance to tell her the truth about everything. And then I…well, I…"

"You what?" I asked him.

Mulder hesitated, and so Aaron filled in the blanks.

"Liz, it was awesome. He used her tablet to hack your medical records."

"I didn't look through them," Mulder said quickly. "And I didn't let her look, either. I just showed her the part where it lists your blood type because statistically it would be extremely rare for an AB parent to have an O child."

"Rare, but not impossible."

"Right, but I think it was enough to make her reconsider. I mean…she _did_ reconsider because she's meeting you, so…"

"So are you going to tell her?" Aaron asked after Mulder trailed off. "About her real mom?"

"I haven't decided yet," I admitted. "I'm not sure it's my place to tell her."

An hour later, as I sat at a table on the patio of P.J. Clarke's, I still wasn't sure.

"_Did the three stooges shed any light on things?_" Danny asked me when I called him after leaving Mulder's apartment.

"_Not really, other than the fact that I somehow managed to acquire another stepson."_

"_Mulder's contagious, isn't he?"_ he said on a laugh.

"_He's a good kid,_" I agreed.

He had apparently sung my praises, telling Cecilia about the blackmail effort that was unwittingly sparked by her search for me.

"_She had to know_," he asserted when I questioned why he'd brought that up. "_I mean, you could've left her swinging or carrying weight or…or…something, but you didn't because you that's not you and she needed to know that that's not you and that whatever her perception of reality is right now isn't necessarily inside the network, right?"_

Because yeah, by that point he'd relaxed enough to slip back into his typical vernacular.

But oddly enough, I understood him just fine.

"_What else did you tell her?"_

"_Not much_," he deflected with a shrug. "_She asked if we could talk about something else for a while. Although I did tell her that you don't ever lie. And that you're a really nice person."_

"Dr. Rodgers."

I looked up to see that Cecilia had approached my table.

She didn't look nearly as nervous as when she came to my office yesterday, but she was still a little fidgety.

"Liz," I corrected. "Please, have a seat."

"I was supposed to be heading back to Boston right about now," she said as she sat down across from me.

I wasn't sure how to respond to that, but I didn't need to because she continued.

"I had it all worked out in my head, you know? I wanted to take you by surprise so that you couldn't blow me off, and I thought there'd be a moment or two of hesitation, when you weren't sure of my intentions, and then I was going to hug you and tell you that I know you had me when you were in college, and that I don't blame you for trying to offer me a better life, but that now maybe we can try to have some kind of relationship…"

She stopped talking and looked at me suddenly, her expression filled with disappointment.

"But I guess I should be used to the idea that things rarely go the way I plan."

"I'm sorry," I said simply. "If it helps, I wish things could've worked out differently, too."

She stared at me, seemingly analyzing my features as though maybe she was hoping she would see some spark of similarity.

"We look nothing alike," she said at last.

"No. Because I'm not you're mother."

"I know," she said on a sigh. "I mean, I didn't know, but after talking to Mulder last night…you know, I still wanted it to be true. I wanted to believe I'd found you. I mean her. You know what I mean."

"I do," I said, relaxing enough to smile only after she did the same. It was a slight, hesitant smile, but still…it was there.

"Okay, so…you were honest with me, and now I'm going to be honest with you. I hacked you. Not to steal from you or anything like that, but just to find out what I could about you."

"I guess I need to sign up for Life Lock," I said wryly.

"Actually, that wouldn't help you because there are ways to get around systems like that," she began and then she stopped herself and smiled fully for the first time. "Sorry. I have a thing for computers. Anyway, I guess I owe you a huge apology. A couple of them. Mulder told me what Tessa did, and I'm really sorry. I had no idea she'd do something like that. We used to be friends."

"I know. We hacked you," I replied. "Or at least, Mulder did."

"So you know my sad little story."

"I know what's written in a file. I don't know the real you."

"Yeah, well, lucky you. You're off the hook," she said smartly. "You won't have to see me again after today."

"I won't have to, no. But it doesn't have to be like that."

"I'm no one to you," she said in confusion. "We're not related. Unless you mean…is my mother like your sister or cousin or something?"

"No," I answered, and it was at that moment that I made up my mind.

And who knows if I'd have done the same thing if I'd met Cecilia a year ago, but I didn't. I'm meeting her now, after finally grasping the importance of friendship and loyalty and forging bonds and that none of it has anything to do with blood relations.

So I told her about her real mother, who she was to me and what happened that resulted in my name being on her birth certificate.

And then I told her about my conversation with Vanessa last week.

"I was tempted to lie to you," I concluded. "I figured it would keep you from getting hurt."

"You were going to tell me that you didn't know her name?"

"No, I was going to tell you that you're mine," I admitted.

We looked at each other across the table, and I found myself doing the same thing that she'd done earlier – I was looking for a resemblance. Which is crazy, really, and yet I couldn't stop myself.

But there were none.

Dark brown shoulder-length hair, brown eyes framed by thick lashes…she was pretty in an understated kind of way.

"Why would you do that?"

As she asked the question, the waitress stopped at our table, so we took a break from the serious conversation so that we could order lunch, and then once we were alone again, we talked.

I told her everything I know about Vanessa, past and present.

"I'm not sure how I feel about knowing that my mother's a pretentious bitch."

"I didn't say that."

"Maybe not, but…"

"Yeah, she is," I agreed.

And then she talked about herself. Her devastation over being pulled from her foster home, and having to live in a group home, and then juvie…but she sounded more factual about it than bitter.

"I wish it had been different, but it wasn't, so what am I supposed to do? Cry about it?" she said with a shrug when she finished. "Besides, I'm doing okay for myself. I've got a decent job and a place to live…and I've got Gates."

"Gates?"

"He's my one true love," she said with a smile, and then she showed me her phone. The background image was an extreme close-up of a fuzzy-looking mutt.

"He's adorable."

And then I fielded her questions about me.

"I bet he has all kinds of grisly stories to tell," she said, referring to Danny. "That's probably pretty cool, huh? Although I guess you have your own stories."

"I got banned from family dinners years ago," I said with a smirk.

"I can imagine," she said on a laugh. "So the guys who were at the bar with Mulder last night…they're your stepsons?"

"That's right. Jeremy just finished his first year of college and Aaron graduates high school in a few weeks."

"That's nice," she said, somewhat wistfully. "You know, this _is_ how I wanted our first meeting to go. In every detail except for one."

"You would've liked me to lie?" I asked knowingly, because I kind of felt the same way.

We'd forged a connection over two hours and tuna salad sandwiches.

"No. I would've liked for it to be the truth."

TBC...

A/N: I don't know where the reviews are going, but please don't let that sway you from jotting down a thought or two anyway - I'm getting them via email notification even though they're missing from FF. Hopefully they'll come back soon!


	91. Chapter 91

**John Strathmore POV**

* * *

><p>"I'm expecting someone," I told the young woman working the hostess station in the nicest of the Millennium's three restaurants. "Be sure to bring him straight back, okay?"<p>

"Yes, sir, Mr. Strathmore," she answered promptly. "You'll be at your usual table?"

I nodded and then headed inside, making my way to the booth in the far corner.

It was a table designed for doing private business, with its high-backed booths and isolated location. Once seated, a person was practically invisible to the remainder of the restaurant, and the wait staff was trained to use the utmost discretion while serving.

Not too long ago, I bought the Millennium while sitting at this very table.

I slid across the navy blue leather fabric until I was seated next to the window which offered me a birds-eye view of mid-town.

But even though I was looking through the glass, my gaze was turned inward.

"_You don't know what the hell you're talking about_."

That's what Mary said angrily into the phone when I walked into our suite last night.

She was standing in the middle of the room, and after making the statement, she killed the rest of whatever she was drinking and then she slammed the glass down on the table before raking her hand through her hair.

I paused for a moment in the foyer, not sure if she wanted privacy for the conversation, but she glanced over at me and gestured for me to move closer to her.

"_That's not why I called…no, it's…this is different_."

I slipped around behind her and put my hands on her shoulders, gently kneading the taut muscles.

I wasn't sure who was the source of her tension, but I had a couple of guesses.

Her mother, Jinx. Or possibly her sister Brandi.

"_Fuck you, Marshall. When you're ready to get over yourself, then feel free to call me, but until then, have a nice life."_

Marshall.

I hadn't considered that it might be him.

My first response was to be jealous.

Inappropriate, maybe, but I can't help it. They were partners and best friends for a long time, and she'd admitted to me back when we first met that she thought he was in love with her, but that she only thought of him as a brother.

But still…

She hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed before turning around and looking at me anxiously.

"_Are you okay?_" I asked.

"_Yeah, sure,"_ she said with a shrug. "_I'm fine. Great."_

"_You want to talk about it?"_

"_No. I want to drink about it,"_ she countered brusquely and then she moved past me over to the table where she'd set down her glass. She uncapped a bottle of tequila and poured in a healthy shot before looking back at me in question. "_Are you in or not?"_

"_Not. And maybe you shouldn't be either."_

"_Yeah, okay, let's go ahead and get started on that now."_

"_Get started on…what?"_

"_You, telling me what to do. Because that's how this is going to work, right? I mean, after we get married. Then I'll be Mrs. John Strathmore, and I'll have to make sure that I project the right image in public, and that I'm the good little billionaire's wife. There'll be luncheons and brunches and cocktail parties and you can't exactly have your better half swilling tequila at shit like that, right? And for that matter, I shouldn't be using the word shit, either. And not only that, but I can't even say better half without choking, because that's a complete joke. Better half. As if there's anything about me that's better than…than…anything."_

I stood and stared at her while she ranted, and as much as I hated her words, she needed to get it off of her chest.

I could only guess that Marshall had pumped her full of insecurities.

She tossed back the Jose Cuervo and then refilled her glass again before she started pacing across the room.

"_It doesn't make any sense, John. I'm…I'm…me. I'm the relationship killer. I suck at making anyone happy. I mean, it's a proven fact. I've sabotaged every potential_ _relationship in my life, and probably for good reason, and yet somehow I let myself get here with you and that's not fair to you because I'm going to screw it up. I'm going to be a moody bitch or I'm going to spend twenty hours a day at work or I'm going to publicly embarrass you and ruin your reputation…it's…it's…"_

"_Mary,"_ I said quietly, deciding that it was time to intervene.

She was pouring her third glass of Cuervo, just since I walked into the room, and the situation was deteriorating quickly.

"_What?_" she asked crossly. _"You know I'm right. I'm nowhere near good enough for a man like you. You could be dating an actress or a supermodel or something, not some run-of-the-mill, average-looking, mean-spirited, tequila-drinking, gun-toting, foul-mouthed, unromantic, uncouth, smart-ass commitment-phobe."_

She punctuated her statement by downing the shot, and then she eyeballed me challengingly.

And call me crazy, but I wanted to laugh.

And I wanted to strip her down and make love to her until all of her insecurities were washed away.

Although, if I'm honest, I also wanted to fuck her hard up against the wall, too.

Maybe that third thing most of all because it really pisses me off that her so-called friend had messed with her mind like that, and I'm not sure what _fucking_ will do to fix it, but it's how I feel, so I figure it's worth a shot.

Although maybe that's the jealousy talking.

_"See? You can't even argue with me because you know I'm right_," she asserted.

"_No_," I corrected as I walked across the room until I was standing in front of her. _"I can't argue with you because all I can think about is how much fun it is being in love with a_ _mean-spirited, tequila-drinking, gun-toting, foul-mouthed, unromantic, uncouth, smart-ass commitment-phobe."_

She tilted her head and looked up at me as she thought about my words.

_"You forgot run-of-the-mill and average-looking," _she replied.

_"I didn't forget. But that's the part I'm going to argue about. Because there's nothing average at all about you," _I told her.

I touched her lightly on the shoulder and then slid my hand down her arm until I got to her hand, which was still clutching the empty glass. I took it from her and blindly reached out to set it on the nearby dresser, and then I turned back to her and ran my hand over her hair.

"_You're beautiful and you're real and you're exactly who I want. And I don't know what line of bullshit Marshall gave you, but don't believe it. If you're truly having second thoughts about marrying me, then we can wait. But if you're scared because of something he said, or because you think you're not the perfect woman for me…"_

She sighed and wrapped her arms around me and said,_ "He said that I'm a novelty for you. That it's probably exciting for you to be with someone outside of your own world, but that someone like you couldn't possibly be happy with someone like me." _

It's official.

I'm going to kill him.

And I'm not too worried about repercussions because I know a couple of great lawyers who can probably get me off with a temporary insanity plea.

"_Someone like me,_" I stated with barely-checked anger. "_He has to guess because he doesn't know me, Mary. And he couldn't be more wrong."_

"_I just wanted him to be happy for me_," she admitted quietly. "_We were so close for so long, and I haven't talked with him much since he moved and then I moved and you know, I've been busy and we have so many friends here and…"_

"_You don't have to explain yourself. People change and move on. And if his response to you telling him that we're getting married was to remind you of your past failed relationships…well, I think that's pretty sad. Besides, everyone has failed relationships. Otherwise we'd all be married to the first person we date."_

She started chuckling, her face still pressed against my chest.

"_What?_" I questioned.

"_I did marry the first person I dated."_

"_And see what a bad idea that was?"_ I replied, laughing along with her. "_Failed relationships help us learn what we want."_

"_You mean, marrying Mark showed me that I want a husband who won't cheat on me on our honeymoon?_" she asked, relaxing her hold on me so that she could ease back and look me in the eye.

"_Exactly. And not only do I promise not to cheat during our honeymoon, but I promise not to cheat ever, okay? And as for that other stuff…I hate luncheons and brunches and cocktail parties, so we'll only go when it's absolutely necessary, and you can curse and drink all the tequila you want. It'll probably liven things up a little."_

She smiled fully, and I was flooded with relief that I'd apparently said the right thing. I mean, everything I'd said was true, but it also seemed to be exactly what she needed to hear.

"_And did you say you're going to be Mrs. John Strathmore_?" I continued as I leaned in, bringing my lips close to hers. "_Does that mean you're going to take my name?"_

"_I've been thinking about it,_" she answered. _"I mean, it'll help them keep their stories straight in the society pages, right? What do you think?"_

"_Whatever makes you happy."_

I kissed her then, stalling any further discussion we might have on the matter. Personally, I'd love it if she wants to take my name, but I wasn't expecting it. She has her own career, her own identity…taking my name would change a lot for her.

"_As soon as this case is over, we're getting married_," she said on a sigh as I broke away from her mouth so that I could kiss along the side of her throat.

"_May. I love it_," I agreed quickly.

"_Or June, depending on how fast we can solve this damn thing."_

"_No case talk now,"_ I chastised lightly, pulling on her shirt until it was untucked and then sliding my hands underneath the fabric.

"_No? Then what is it that you want to do?"_

"_Well, earlier I was debating between making love to you on the bed or fucking you up against the wall."_

"_Decisions, decisions. What did you come up with?"_

"_Whatever makes you happy."_

As it turned out, she was just as torn as me, so we ended up doing both.

This morning, she left for work around ten-thirty, since they'd all agreed to meet at the office later than a normal day to allow for some extra sleep.

Once she was gone, I made a call.

Because you know, as much as I don't like to brag about it, I'm a powerful man.

I know people.

And no, I don't mean I put out a hit on Marshall, although if he ever shows up in New York, I reserve the right to beat the shit out of him.

But no, instead I made a call to man with whom I have a mutual interest.

"John Strathmore."

I looked away from the window and saw that my potential co-conspirator had arrived.

"I'm glad you agreed to see me," I said as I stood up and shook his hand. He nodded at me as he firmly gripped my hand and then we both sat down.

"It's not every day I get called by a man like you with a proposal that we work together."

"Probably not," I said with a smile. "But it's not every day that our paths cross."

"True," he agreed, and when I saw our waiter lurking subtly off to the side, I waived him over.

"Let's have a drink and discuss the particulars," I suggested, and then I turned to the waiter and said, "Bring us a couple of pints of Guinness."

"Yes, sir. Right away," he agreed eagerly.

"Guinness. Are you trying to butter me up?"

"Am I wrong?"

"You know you aren't, my boy," Shane O'Connor replied with a broad grin. "And I think I might be liking you almost as much as your brother. It's a courageous man who wants to do what you're considering."

"I don't believe in playing defense," I stated. "I find that a good offense works much better."

"And what does Mike Logan have to say about your plan?"

"He…doesn't know."

Mike and Carolyn were currently en route to Florida. He had enough on his mind without being drawn into this.

"Protecting him, are you?"

"That's the idea. Well, him and my fiancée. The whole lot of them, really. This has gone on long enough."

"Aye," he said with a nod. "And what is it you hope to gain by doing this?"

"Information. Up until now, they've all either gotten away, ended up dead, or they're hiding behind their lawyers. I have a feeling that you might know how to inspire a little more conversation."

"And what is it that I'll be getting out of the bargain?"

"The faster this goes away, the sooner you can go back to Boston. Your debt to Casey will be paid," I pointed out, and then I paused as the waiter returned with our beers. Once he was gone, I added, "And I'll owe you one. I'm sure a marker from someone like me might come in handy some time."

Maybe not my smartest move, offering a favor to a mobster, but hey…Mike trusts him. And so do the others, so I'm going to trust him, too.

"We've a deal then, my boy," he said. He picked up his glass and clinked it against mine before taking a sip. "When is it that you'll be wanting to pull it off?"

"Today, while Mike's gone. You'll need to call off your boys so that they don't get spooked. I'll leave here and go to 1PP and then let myself get followed back to his house."

I figured that way I'd be sure to be seen. Either they'd start tailing me at the police station, or they'd have people sitting on his house.

"Where I'll be waiting," he responded.

Because the plan was for him and his men to do their own version of an interrogation on the Albanians so that we can find out the location of Demachi and Rama, and if possible, find out the details about the shake-up going on that has Christina playing the role of puppeteer.

And once armed with that information, Mary will be able to make sense of the case and put it to bed before anyone else gets hurt.

And yeah, Mary's probably going to kill _me_ when she finds out, but this is something I feel like I have to do.

"You need to watch yourself, though," O'Connor warned. "What if they catch you before you get to the house? Are you strapped?"

Meaning, do I have a gun.

I don't because I've never been a big fan of them, but the events of the past several months have shown me that sometimes they're necessary.

"No, but I know where to get one."

TBC...


	92. Chapter 92

**Lupo POV**

* * *

><p>I picked up Bernard at his place and drove us toward 1PP.<p>

It was nearly eleven, which is the time we were supposed to be there, but I guess it won't surprise Mary if I show up late.

I seemed to have developed a reputation for having a sex-related lack of punctuality.

_I guess there are worse things_, I thought with an internal smirk.

Besides, it's true.

I was on my way out the door this morning when one goodbye kiss led to another, and then another and another, and the next thing I knew, my pants were around my ankles.

I've heard the adage that newlywed couples should put a penny in a jar every time they have sex during the first year of marriage. Supposedly, starting in the second year and for the rest of the marriage, you take one _out_ every time you have sex…and you'll never empty the jar.

I don't imagine that'll be true with us. I mean, we've only been married ten days and even with our temporary houseguest, we probably have more than thirty metaphorical pennies in there, but I'm also very much looking forward to emptying the jar at the same accelerated rate.

Although maybe I'll just keep adding to it each year instead.

It can be a retirement fund.

"So did Lauren get moved in last night?" I asked my partner after he buckled his seat belt.

I wanted to prompt the conversation because he didn't look as happy as I'd expected.

"Mostly. Or at least, as much as we need for now."

"And…things are good?"

"Things are fine."

"Fine," I repeated. He shrugged noncommittally and continued looking through the window. "B, what's going on? Did you change your mind?"

"About Lauren?" he asked in surprise, finally turning to look at me. "Not a chance. You know that."

"I thought I did, but I also thought you'd be a little happier this morning."

He sighed heavily and scrubbed his hand over his face and then said, "Her dad's in town."

"Oh," I said in understanding. "Please tell me you didn't have a Ben moment."

My remark pulled a quick snort of amusement from him.

"Not exactly. We were sitting out on the steps in front of her old building when he showed up."

"So it could've been worse."

I'm not sure I'll ever live down suggesting a quickie on the kitchen floor with Connie while my as-yet-unmet future brother-in-law was within earshot.

"Him catching us having sex is probably the only way it could've been worse. He can't seem to stand the sight of me, and you know, if it were only that, I'd still be okay. But you should see how he treats her, Lupes. It was all I could do not to pull my gun."

He proceeded to tell me about their initial meeting on the sidewalk and how she'd sent him away with the possibility of dinner at a later time.

"Sounds like you both handled it well."

"Yeah. At that point, it was only slightly terrible," he replied. "Although she had a minor setback because of an idiotic thing he said, but still…she's tough."

"So her dad doesn't know about what happened?"

"He didn't. But he does now. After we got Mulder moved in and Lauren moved out, we went back to my place and she called him so that the three of us could meet for dinner."

He paused for a minute and then he looked at me and asked, "And speaking of Mulder, have you talked to him yet? Because I really think time is of the essence."

"If you're so set on him getting a sex talk, why didn't you do it when you were with him yesterday?" I asked him, only partly kidding. Because I know why he didn't do it and yet at the same time, I'm really apprehensive about diving into the topic.

"Uh uh," he said with a smile. "He's your kid, Lupes. That's on you."

"Yeah, I don't know about that kid designation, but I don't want to see him get screwed over, either. He called me last night and I told him that we'll talk today."

"Good. Besides, I think staying with you and Connie is what made him suddenly anxious to start _having_ a sex life. I'm sure it didn't take him long to figure out what Otto was barking at all the time."

"Like it would be any different if he were staying at your place," I replied.

"Nope. And if he'd been staying with me, then I'd be the one playing grown-up, but honestly, I've got enough to deal with at the moment. I'm wondering how fast I can get Grayson Hayes back on a plane to Minnesota."

"He's that bad? Going out to dinner didn't help?"

He laughed humorlessly and shook his head.

"Her, dating me, isn't part of his plan. He has visions of her getting married to a rich, white lawyer. Someone just like him, I guess. Definitely _not_ someone like me."

"He said that?"

"That and more. He suggested that I'm the result of her going through a rebellious phase, _and_ he's convinced that I'm the only one to blame for the fact that she won't be a virgin when she gets married."

"She's thirty-five years old. He thinks you're her first? And not only that, but he actually discussed your sex life at the dinner table?" I asked in disbelief.

"Oh, it gets better. Lauren told him about the rape. Partly because she was getting pretty pissed by that point, and I think she wanted to shut him up, but also because she's afraid Schmenke's going to be in touch with him to arrange for him to be a character witness when this thing goes to trial."

"Please tell me he lightened up after that, or we might have to make a detour before we go to 1PP."

"It was unbelievable, Lupes. I was there, and I still can't believe it. He sat there and stared at her for a minute and then he started eating again, as he said, _and yet you still choose to dress like a hooker on stroll. No lesson learned there, huh, Lauren?"_

I had to slam on the brakes because I was so shocked by what he said that I was barely paying attention to the traffic around me.

And he wasn't done.

"And then he said, _but I guess_ _that does explain why your self-esteem is so low that you're in a relationship with him. _Meaning me, of course."

"Where's he staying?" I asked through gritted teeth.

I was furious for both Bernard and Lauren, and I wasn't sure if I'd be able to think straight until I had a few words with that man.

"I'm handling it."

"By doing what? Because I can stop and buy a shovel if you need help burying his body."

"I'll keep that in mind. But for now, I'm meeting him this afternoon. Just me and him. Lauren slapped him last night after he said what he did, and that was the end of dinner, and then this morning, he called and apologized and asked her to meet him for lunch."

"And she agreed to it?"

"He's her father. She wants his love and approval. I don't blame her for wanting it, but I think she's going to be disappointed. Again"

"You should call her and ask her to postpone the lunch date. You need to talk to him first."

"Maybe. She's meeting with Cutter right now. I guess he has news about the Flowers case. You know, I'm trying not to be over protective, but it's getting to the point where I don't want her to do anything alone. I mean, what if Cutter has bad news?"

"Then he'd wait for a time when you're with her," I said confidently. "He won't blindside her like that."

"I know you're right," he answered. "She's just really vulnerable right now."

"She doesn't need to meet with her father alone until after you get your point across," I suggested again.

"I thought about that, but I'm not sure I should interfere in their relationship."

"After what he said to her? You've been her support system for dealing with Flowers, and then he comes to town and says something like that? I can just imagine the backsliding she's experiencing," I remarked.

I made a mental note to suggest to Connie that she give Lauren a call, because it sounded like she was going to need someone to talk to, and as close as she and Bernard are, it still probably wouldn't hurt for her to have a woman's perspective.

"Not to mention his treatment of you," I continued. "God, that's just…I'm so…that guy needs a beat down."

"Depending on how it goes this afternoon, he might get one," he replied, and I could hear the barely-controlled venom just beneath the surface.

We drove in silence for a few minutes while I seethed on his behalf, and then I couldn't hold my tongue anymore.

"Just ditch work and go see him now," I suggested. "I'll cover for you. Besides, it's Sunday. What are they going to say? We've been working practically two weeks straight."

But before Bernard could respond, my phone rang.

"McClane! Dude, check it," Mulder said excitedly when I answered. "I chatted up this chica last night in a bar…"

"Hang on, Mulder. Is this something we can talk about when I meet up with you later?"

"Maybe, yeah, but _dude_…she hit up my digits, right? I mean, _shit_. I was just laying the tracks for the doc to have an in. Oh, and speaking of the doc, you know, she's pretty awesome because she could've been fuming but she wasn't, she was super cool and so anyway after I smoothed her feathers, she agreed to a little sync-up, you know what I'm saying?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're saying. Why are you smoothing Liz's feathers, and does the chief know about it? And if sync-up is some kind of euphemism for sex…"

"Dude!" he shouted, laughing at the same time. "You think I'm hitting on the doc?"

"I have no idea what you're doing."

"Her _kid_. I mean, the woman who thought she was her kid. Aren't you in the loop with this shit?"

I glanced over at Bernard, who seemed to have loosened up just from listening to my half of the conversation, so I decided a mind break with Mulder wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

"Catch me up," I told him.

So I put him on speaker phone while he brought me up to speed about Liz and Cecilia, some of which I knew and some I didn't, and especially the part from yesterday when Cecilia showed up at the morgue and accused Liz of lying.

"So you tracked her GPS and found her in a bar? Mulder, that's almost stalkerish. You might want to think about that a little more next time. Just because you _can_ do that kind of thing doesn't mean you _should_."

"I know, but dude, it was for the doc, right? And Cecilia didn't mind. She's actually pretty cool, and we talked and she didn't act like she wanted to chew off her foot to get away from me, you know what I'm saying?"

"I'm getting there, yes."

"Okay, so the ten called the doc this morning and agreed to meet with her."

"Connie's meeting with Liz?" I asked in confusion.

"No, dude…_Cecilia_. And check it…she hit up my cell a minute ago. She wants to hook-up before she goes back to Beantown."

"You mean like a date?"

"I don't know," he asked, suddenly somber. "Is that what it is?"

"What'd her text say?"

"Oh, dude…check it," he said, once again laughing. "She said _it's my turn to stalk you_. Because, you know, I didn't give her my digits, right? But she found me anyway. Hey, how do you think she did that? Isn't this a prepaid?"

I smirked at the fact that normally Mulder would say the answer to the question was _pre-K shit_, but he was apparently so excited about his pending date that he'd lost a few IQ points.

"You hacked her GPS with your cell, right?" I posed.

He was silent for a minute, and then he said, "Oh, man! She back-hacked me!"

"I'd say so, yes. What else did her message say?"

"It just says King's Hotel at three o'clock, and then there's a question mark."

"She wants to meet you at a hotel?"

"She stayed there last night. I found her in the bar."

"Oh," I said in relief.

And it hit me that Bernard wasn't wrong. Someone needs to talk to him and I guess that someone is me.

Because what if this girl is a con artist?

Or a thief?

Or…or…or she just wants a one-night stand but he's missing the signals because he doesn't _know_ the signals and then he ends up getting hurt?

Because he called her _the ten_.

I wonder if he thought much about it, or if he uses that terminology for most women in general. Although I've only ever heard him use it on Connie and Lauren.

"Come down to 1PP," I told him, figuring at the very least, I could take a break for a few minutes so that I could talk to him before his date.

_And_ I was going to have to call Liz and get the real deal on this girl.

_Woman_, I corrected.

Because she's thirty.

And Mulder's twenty-four.

That wouldn't normally be a big deal, but Mulder's not exactly normal.

"Now? I haven't showered. Aaron just hit the road back to Albany and Jeremy's helping me clean up and…"

"Not now," I interrupted. "I'm just getting there myself, so give me a couple of hours, okay?"

"Sure thing, McClane."

I hung up with Mulder as I pulled in the parking garage.

"So Mulder has a date," Bernard said in amusement.

"Sounds like it. What the hell am I supposed to tell him?"

"The finer points of playing the field. How to read women. How to talk to them and how to treat them."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," I groaned. "Hey, did Lucas go home already? Because he'd be much better at this. You know, being an active player an all."

Bernard chuckled and shook his head.

"He was gone when we got home yesterday evening. Now man up, Lupes. It hasn't been that long since you were single. I'm sure you remember how it's done."

"I just don't want to give him bad advice that ends up messing him up," I admitted.

"Your dad split when you were a teenager, right? Didn't you have the talk with your little brother?"

"Yeah. And he ended up sleeping with my girlfriend and getting her pregnant, and then he married her and cheated on her. Look how well that turned out."

"Okay, so…whatever you told him? Tell Mulder the opposite."

Five minutes later, we were in the conference room on the eleventh floor along with the Gorens and the four marshals.

"Bailey? Are you kidding me?" Mary asked after Alex clued us in on what she'd discovered last night.

"We don't know if it means anything," Alex replied.

"Oh, it means something," Bernard stated. "It means I want to get him in a room now, too."

And the heat with which he made the comment reminded me that we didn't get back to talking about Lauren's dad.

Had he sent her a text, asking her not to meet with him yet?

"Get in line," Mary said in response to B's impassioned remark. "If there's anything left of him after I get finished, he's all yours."

"You need to call in another US Attorney," Bobby said.

"First thing tomorrow morning," she replied with a nod. "I'd do it now, but those lazy bastards don't work on Sundays."

"Okay, so what do we do in the mean time?" Jennifer asked.

"We find out everything we can on Bailey."

"And let's look over the crime scene details from the brother and his family," Alex suggested.

"And I want another run at Marco," I added. "I want to question him about Derek."

"And about his experience with handguns," Bobby said. "His innocent act is played. We need to establish his connection to Derek, either through a confession or with some type of hard evidence."

"Yeah, but to what end?" Mary asked. "How does it help us to prove that they know each other?"

"You know, Marco got pissed when we said that Derek was sleeping with Christina, but he wasn't necessarily _surprised_," Bernard pointed out.

Jennifer began nodding emphatically as she said, "Are you thinking that maybe he already knew about those two? And that he's the one who killed Derek?"

"The MO was different than the other gang killings," McInnis agreed. "But…still. I'm with Mary. Other than possibly solving Derek's murder, how does everything else help us?"

"Because once we know the reason for what's going on, and prove that Christina's involved," Bobby began. "Then we can have the deal pulled by an unbiased US Attorney and we can start from scratch with charges for everyone."

"And then we'll just have to find Rama and Demachi. We can throw them all in jail and let the DA sort it out."

"Finding them might be the catch. Still no activity on Demachi's cell phone?"

"Nothing yet."

Alex's phone started buzzing and so did Bernard's.

Mary paused for a moment while each of them looked at their respective messages, and then I was surprised to hear Alex say, "I need to go out for a little bit."

"We're just getting started," Daniels said, more from confusion than any kind of rebuke.

"I know, but something's come up," she said as she put her phone back into her pocket. "Bobby?"

"Yeah, okay," he said as he followed her to the door. "We'll…um…be back."

"That was strange," McInnis commented. "Some kind of lead?"

"Maybe," Mary said with a nod. "Okay, so…"

"Yeah, I need to go, too," Bernard spoke up.

"Are you kidding me?"

"No. It's a personal issue," he explained as he looked at me for help.

"Go," I told him. "I'll save Marco for when you get back. I can start with the electronic legwork, and if I need an extra set of eyes, I'll call Connie."

He gave me an appreciative look and then left the room. Once he was gone, Mary said, "Anyone else?"

"Hey, it's Sunday," I said defensively. "People do have lives outside of 1PP."

"I know," she replied with a wave. "I'm sorry. I'm a little distracted with personal business myself. Okay, so…Lupo, you're on Marco. If he peed his pants in the second grade, I want to know about it. And then when Bernard comes back, you two can go at him."

"Got it," I agreed.

"Daniels, you and McInnis work on Bailey, and think outside of the box, okay? I want to know everything."

"So, peeing in the pants…that kind of thing?" McInnis joked.

"Exactly that kind of thing," she said with a smirk. "Jennifer, we're going to take another walk through the Cincinelli family murders."

"Sounds like fun."

"Don't worry. We'll all get out of here before dinner. Lupo's right. We've got lives, and a few hours of work on Sunday afternoon is more than enough."

TBC...


	93. Chapter 93

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>"Why do I get the feeling we're not ditching work for a quickie in the elevator?"<p>

That's what Bobby mumbled to me as we slipped through the squad room, heading for the aforementioned means of downward travel.

"Because we're not," I replied with no small amount of regret. "But I've got to tell you…I like the way you think. Save that idea for next time, okay?"

"Consider it done. So…what's going on?"

I didn't say anything until we were behind closed doors on the elevator, and then I told him about the text.

"It was from John. He wants to meet in the parking garage."

"Sounds clandestine. Why didn't he text Mary?"

"Because not everyone views the parking garage as a good place for sex," I teased as I bumped him with my hip.

But despite the banter, I was a little concerned.

First off, because not only did John not _text_ Mary, but he specifically said _don't tell Mary._

And if it had been that alone, I might assume that it had something to do with a spur-of-the-moment wedding plan or something, but the text also said, _can you meet me right away? Just you, Alex._

"Then everyone else is missing out," Bobby joked, not picking up on my concern.

Of course, I hadn't told him the specific disclaimer about John only wanting to meet me.

I also didn't stop to consider why I didn't hesitate to include Bobby in spite of the directive.

We stepped off of the elevator and were met immediately by John.

"I guess I should've known," he said wryly after catching sight of my six-four shadow.

"Should've known what?" Bobby asked as he shook John's hand, but I interrupted his response by saying, "Yes, you should've. Why the spook bit?"

"I need a favor."

"Okay."

"And you can't ask any questions."

I glanced at Bobby, but he just shrugged at me and then looked back at John, who was staring only at me.

I briefly flashed on to our Denver trip, when John had confessed to having a crush on me. I know that's in the past, but still…he's acting weird.

"What's going on?"

"I need a gun. Just for the afternoon."

"Sure, but my gun comes complete with its own detective attached to it," I answered. "So where are we going?"

"Uh uh," he said, shaking his head. "Not we. Just me. And definitely not him."

"Him, me?" Bobby questioned. "John…start talking."

John sighed and ran his hand through his hair in a stressed-out gesture that made him look exactly like Mike.

I mean, even more like Mike than he already does.

And then he looked pointedly at me and said, "That's why I wanted you to come alone. Because I had a feeling you would try to finagle your way into the situation, and I might give in if it were only you, but…five days ago Bobby was having a _hole_ drilled in his _head_."

"You're worried about me? I'm fine."

"He's fine," I said, backing him up, because now I was much more worried about John. "What's the situation?"

And isn't this whole thing just ridiculous that everyone keeps trying to do things to protect everyone else?

It's just this huge cycle.

"I need to go meet a guy," he said vaguely as he looked at his watch. "And I need to go now. And I'm not sure if I can trust him, so I that's why I want to take your gun."

"John, this is crazy. Tell us who it is. We can help. It's what we do."

"See, that's just it. I'm trying to help _you_. And you can't be part of it. I just need you to trust me."

So I gave him my gun.

Not my service weapon, but a back-up piece.

And then, because there's no way in hell we're sending our desk-riding brother into a questionable situation with my gun and no back-up, we got into the SUV and followed him.

Without his knowledge, of course.

Although he was slow leaving the parking garage, and even slower as he cruised in front of 1PP, so I almost blew our cover before we even got started, but after the first block, he drove at a normal pace and I was able to follow him discreetly.

"Why is it that everyone thinks they can be cops?" I mused as I trailed along at a safe distance behind John.

"Television shows. They make it look easy," Bobby replied distractedly.

He didn't look at me, and we weren't in our usual car-ride light-hearted mode.

We were on alert.

"He's doing something with the Albanians," Bobby continued. "But what? You think he's trying to lure them somewhere?"

_Which maybe explains his turtle-like pace in front of 1PP._

But why would he do that?

"That would be suicide," I replied. "They certainly weren't in the mood for chatting with him yesterday. If they see him, they're going to try to kill him."

"He's got company."

"Where?"

"Check out that red Corolla. It's been sticking close."

"Could they be O'Connor's men?" I questioned.

Bobby was quiet for a while, still watching the Corolla as we crossed over into Brooklyn.

"Maybe, but I don't think so."

"Which begs the question of where _are_ O'Connor's men," I pondered. "And is it just me, or are we headed home?"

"Mike's home," Bobby stated. "He _is_ trying to draw them out. He's laying the groundwork for them to catch him at home."

"Has he completely lost his mind?" I asked in fear and frustration. "Like I said, it's suicide. He's going to get out of the car and they'll gun him down!"

I pulled my phone from my pocket, intent on calling John and pulling the plug, but Bobby stopped me.

"He's not stupid, Alex."

"I know that. But short-sighted maybe."

"He's not that, either. He wouldn't do something like this without having a plan in place."

"So…what? We're just going to watch it happen?"

Bobby pulled his gun from his holster and checked the clip before popping it back into place and drawing back the slide.

"We'll watch until it's time for action," he said quietly. "See if you can get us a little closer to the Corolla."

I checked out the traffic around me, but then I had another idea.

"Are you sure that's where they're going?"

"Aren't you?"

I thought about it for a second, and then nodded and said, "Yeah. Okay, so I'm thinking that I'll take 4th instead of 6th. I can throw on the lights and sirens and beat everyone there and that'll give us a chance to set up in a good spot."

It was a risk, but if we were right, it would be worth it.

Of course, if we're wrong then it would mean we'd lose sight of John.

"Do it," Bobby said confidently.

So two blocks later, I got into the right lane and turned down 4th. After another block, I flipped on the siren and stepped hard on the gas.

Fortunately, the traffic wasn't too heavy, and most people seemed content with getting out of our way.

"How much time will we shave?" Bobby asked, stabilizing himself with one hand on the headliner and the other on the door handle.

"Three minutes," I guessed. "Maybe four. John was going the speed limit, and he's bound to catch some lights."

"What are you thinking?"

"Hourbaum's drive," I answered. "He won't be home, and it goes around back. Then we use the fence as cover."

Two blocks from Mike's house, I cut off the siren and slowed down considerably, just in case by some freak of nature the others had beaten us.

But the block was empty.

"What is wrong with him?" I muttered as I eased the car into Mike's neighbor's driveway.

The asphalt actually ran along in between the two townhouses, more like an alley than a drive, but it would serve the purpose.

We came to a stop near the back of the houses, where our SUV wouldn't be visible from the street. I mean, it would if someone actually got out and walked near the driveway and looked, but for some reason, I didn't picture this going down like that.

In fact, I was really afraid this was going to get ugly the second John gets out of the car.

_What was he thinking?_

And I gave him a gun.

_What was **I **thinking?_

"Why would he do something like this without arranging for back-up?" I continued as we quickly and quietly got out of the car and walked back along the fence line. "In fact, why would he do something like this at all? It's risky and careless and…"

"I think he had help," Bobby said suddenly.

"Why do you say that?"

"Just…listen."

So I did.

The faint sounds of traffic from two streets over.

The hum of an air conditioner unit.

A far-off siren from a fire engine.

And then I moved past the tangible things to the intangible.

My fear, breathing along with me as I watched intently for John's approach.

The disproportionate weight of my gun in my hand.

The heavy silence of Mike and Carolyn's empty home.

"Someone's inside," I stated, just as John's car came into view, parking along the curb in front of the house.

And I don't have any explanation for how I know that, or how Bobby knows it.

We just do.

"Uh huh."

"Who?"

"Maybe Rocco?"

"But what if it's Demachi?"

"And he got past that security system Mike installed? I don't think so. Besides, Mike's been gone for five days. They wouldn't be camped out inside. Not without alerting neighbors or setting off the alarm. No, it's someone who was given the codes."

Our discussion was stalled as John got out of the car and moved swiftly up the sidewalk.

_He wants to be inside before the red Corolla shows up_, I thought.

Okay, so maybe he _has_ thought about this.

Maybe he _does_ have a plan.

"He's going in," I whispered. "Are we positive he's safe inside?"

"Yes," Bobby said. "Demachi's men aren't subtle. We know that. And with the way Mike's house is wired…"

"Yeah, okay," I agreed.

Because he's right about that.

Even an experienced cat burglar wouldn't be able to penetrate Mike's fortress.

In fact, as soon as this case is over and we can go home, I'm going to get something just like that put on our apartment.

I felt a surge of adrenaline as I watched the red Corolla slow to a crawl in front of the house, and then come to a complete stop on the other side of the street.

Two men got out of the car, looking up and down the road cautiously before crossing to this side and glancing into John's car.

"What's John going to do? Shoot them when they try to go into the house?" I muttered. "This is bad, Bobby."

"He was shot at yesterday," he reminded me. "He's trying to do something rather than sit back and do nothing."

I nodded in resignation and then watched as one of the men felt the hood of John's car while the other took a lap around the vehicle.

What the hell are they doing?

"Bomb," Bobby said, as if he was reading my mind.

And I don't know how he knew the answer ahead of time, but after he said the words, the man near the hood dropped down to his knees and pulled something from underneath his jacket.

"So maybe they won't go up to the house," I said hopefully. "Maybe they'll plant the bomb and leave."

"Or it's their back-up plan, in case they screw up again."

Either way, we waited for them to set it, not wanting to risk the guy having it in his hand as a potential weapon.

Once the bomb was set, the guy got to his feet and then both men hustled back across the street and popped the trunk on the Corolla.

"Now what?" I asked in annoyance. "We just need to arrest these guys right now."

"The more we know, the more we know," he posed. "If they don't try to cause John any harm right now, we can just follow these guys and maybe they'll lead us to Demachi."

But as he said the words, we learned what was in the Corolla's trunk.

"Bobby, it's…" I said as we both took off running towards the street.

Because now they were armed with unlit Molotov cocktails.

_I guess they were supposed to make damn sure to kill him this time_, I thought.

"NYPD!" I shouted as we neared the two gangsters, one of whom was now holding a lighter. "Drop the lighter right now!"

The thugs paused, looking at us in surprise, and as we stepped from the curb, preparing to cross the street to where the men were standing, we were hit with two more surprises.

First off, two more men, from out of nowhere, came running towards us, and I shifted my aim briefly from the men at the Corolla to the men barreling down the street, and as I was yelling for them to stop, the Albanian flicked on the lighter and lit up one of the fire bombs.

One of the newcomers tackled the guy and the bottle flew out of his hand, exploding in a ball of fire about five feet away from where we were standing.

Instinctively, I covered my face from the rush of heat, but then I moved closer to the melee, with Bobby at my side, as we hurried to make sense of what was happening.

Now both Albanians were on the ground, each wrestled into submission by the other men. I pointed my gun at the whole lot of them, and then I heard a voice I recognized.

"No harm, no foul, Detectives."

It was O'Connor.

_John had called Shane O'Connor? _

I looked at Bobby in confusion as I holstered my weapon, trusting the Irish mob boss, even though that's not something I'll ever write in any report.

"O'Connor?" Bobby questioned as together we turned towards the house to see O'Connor coming down the sidewalk.

"Aye, my boy. You two are unexpected guests at my party, and I'm hoping you won't be offended when I ask you to go on your way."

He met us at the curb, talking quietly while his cohorts escorted the Albanians up the walk, towards Mike's porch.

"I'm not sure we can do that," I answered.

"There's been no crime committed," he said reasonably.

"They planted a bomb under the car," Bobby pointed out. And of course, there was a fire still burning itself out only ten feet away.

"Give me ten minutes and I can say _what bomb_," O'Connor posed.

"But…"

"'Tis Mike's brother who came to me. I'm only trying to do what he asked and help put an end to this insanity."

At my continued silence, he smiled at me charmingly and added, "I promise not to kill them. How's that then, my dear?"

"Alex, Bobby," John said as he jogged down the sidewalk. "Please."

He joined our group and looked at both of us, sternly and without remorse.

I glanced at Bobby and he nodded slowly and said, "Okay. But we're going to talk about this later."

"I know."

"Do you?" I asked, my worry for him coming out as anger. "This was way too dangerous and I could probably arrest _you_ for something, although I'm not sure what just yet, but…do something like this again, and I'll be creative."

"I have no doubt," he answered as O'Connor chuckled, and then the two of them turned to go back towards the house, and that's when a third surprising thing happened.

A car came roaring down the street, despite the flames in the middle of the road, and going much too fast for the residential road.

And then the passenger window came open.

"Get down!" I yelled as I reached for my gun again and all of us hit the deck while shots rang out.

Twenty-four, all total, six of which were from my gun as I emptied my clip at the speeding car.

It veered towards us before running over the curb and slamming into a telephone pole.

The impact caused the horn to sound and Bobby and I quickly scrambled to our feet to check on the status of the inhabitants of the vehicle.

I circled around to the passenger side while Bobby went to the driver's side. The air bags were deployed, and it took us a moment to assess the situation, and once we did, I was hit with shock number four of the afternoon.

"Demachi?" Bobby asked me in surprise.

"Uh huh. Is he dead?"

As I asked the query, the man in question groaned and shifted in the seat, and I can't say that I was disappointed to see he was alive, but…well, okay, I can say that.

Him being dead would've been a nice fifth surprise.

As it was, he had merely been beaned with the airbag.

_And hit by a bullet_, I amended as Bobby dragged the mobster out of the car and it became obvious that there was a gunshot wound in the man's thigh. It didn't look life-threatening, but still…

I went back around to the other side to help him, and I saw O'Connor and John still standing in the street, and John had my gun in his hand.

_Shit._

"You got him?" I asked Bobby.

"Yeah," he answered as he put on the handcuffs. I watched until the steel bracelets were in place and then I trotted back over to the others.

"Did you fire?" I asked John.

"Um…yeah. I mean, he was shooting at us."

"Give it to me," I instructed as I held out my hand.

"Alex…"

"Give me the damn gun. You didn't fire anything."

"But…"

"He's hit, John. What if it was from this gun? Do you really want it coming back that Demachi was shot in the street by a man unlicensed to carry a weapon? And that the weapon belongs to a police detective? Let me answer that for you. No."

John handed over the gun and for the first time since the parking garage, he looked extremely contrite.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think. I just reacted."

"I know. Now…I guess you get your wish. Go inside and have your party."

"What about him?"

"Bobby and I came to check on Mike's house, since he's out of town, and the guy started shooting at us. End of story."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Go."

O'Connor nodded at me and turned to go inside, but John paused a moment longer and said, "Alex…I'm…I…"

"Call us later," I interrupted. "We'll talk."

"Okay."

He went up the walk and I went to retrieve the SUV, pulling it out of the alley and onto the street near where Bobby was checking out Demachi's injury.

"How is it?" I asked as I got out of the car.

"It's not too bad," he answered. He got to his feet and then pulled Demachi with him.

"You two are fucking dead," the mobster threatened. "You just don't know it yet."

"Yeah, well…we've been told that by scarier men than you and so far we're still kicking," I replied smartly.

Bobby put him into the back of the SUV and then we took a moment just to breathe and survey the scene.

"We caught Demachi," I stated.

"Uh huh," he agreed. "Thanks to John's little plan. Demachi must have wanted to confirm that the job was getting done. I bet they were just going to set the whole house on fire, knowing – or thinking – that Mike was inside."

"It's a damn good thing we followed him."

"Yep."

I nodded and kicked my foot at the ground for a minute and then looked back up at Bobby and asked, "This whole thing is going to come back and bite us in the ass isn't it?"

"Oh yeah."

TBC...


	94. Chapter 94

**Bernard POV**

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes after leaving the conference room, I came up top from the subway station and walked towards the Embassy Suites.<p>

I thought about what I was going to say…what _he_ might say…

There was no telling.

I hadn't expected him to like me on sight, but I _did_ expect that he'd at least try to bite his tongue when it came to Lauren and I being together.

And of course I never thought for a second that she was right in her assumption that he'd blame her for her own rape.

I mean, she'd said as much, but I honestly believed she was underestimating his compassion.

How can someone as great as her have such a complete ass for a father?

_She doesn't deserve this_, I thought for the hundredth time.

But what am I supposed to do?

I mean, I know what I _want_ to do.

I want to snatch him up by his Brooks Brothers tie and beat him to a bloody pulp for hurting her…for making her doubt herself.

And I don't know when I started having such violent tendencies.

_Since Lauren_, my mind supplied.

Because it stems from wanting to protect her.

Flowers…her father…they'd both turned me into someone who was downright homicidal.

The text message I received earlier, back in the conference room, was from him.

From Grayson Hayes.

He'd just gotten Lauren's message, postponing their lunch date.

I'd texted her while Lupo talked to Mulder, on the drive to 1PP, because the more I thought about her sitting there, alone, listening to more bullshit like he spewed last night, the madder I got.

So I asked her, nicely, if she would consider waiting until after I had the chance to talk to him.

_**I was trying to think of an excuse to postpone anyway. I think I'm going to catch up with Connie instead. Don't kill him. And if you do, call me so I can help you get away with it.**_

That was her reply, which brought a smile out of me and allowed me to relax slightly as Lupo finished his conversation.

Although by the time we got to the conference room, my mind had already jumped ahead to _this_ conversation…the one I'm about to have.

_**You sorry son of a bitch – you want to keep my daughter from me? I'm at the Embassy on 9th, if you're man enough to come talk to me.**_

That was his text.

I replied to it before I hit the elevator in 1PP.

_**I'll be there in twenty minutes.**_

When I passed 8th, starting the last block before the hotel, that's when I saw him.

He was standing out on the sidewalk, lighting up a cigarette.

As he flicked the lighter, he looked up and caught my eye.

"Mr. Hayes," I greeted cordially, set on taking the high road.

"Detective," he responded with a nod. "Smoke?"

"No."

"So...you yanked Lauren's leash, huh?" he asked.

"You obviously don't know your daughter very well."

"No, I don't," he agreed, although his tone was anything but amicable. "Because I never would've guessed that she'd be shacking up with a…with a…"

"Don't stop there," I encouraged, taking a step closer to him. "Say what you want to say."

"With a cop," he finished.

And yeah, I'll admit it. That's not what I expected him to say, so it took the slightest edge off of my anger.

"_She's_ a cop," I pointed out. "And a damn good one."

"She should be a lawyer. She should be dating a lawyer. Hell, she should be married right now with a couple of kids."

"You're a real piece of work, you know that? She's _happy_. Or at least she was before you showed up."

He stared at me hard for a minute and then dropped his cigarette, grounding it out with his shoe on the sidewalk, and then he looked up at me and narrowed his eyes.

"Alright, what's it going to take?"

"For you to make things right with her?"

He tilted his head as he continued glaring at me.

"For you to go away," he stated, enunciating each word carefully.

"You…you're offering to _pay_ me? To leave her alone?"

"Don't act morally superior to me, Detective. It's a fair trade. You won't have to walk a beat for the rest of your life, and I get my daughter back. If you do it right, maybe she'll be upset enough to come back home."

"Okay, first of all, I don't walk a beat. I'm a first-grade detective, and I don't need your damn money. But even if I did…even if I was dirt-poor and living on the streets, I sure as hell wouldn't take one cent from you," I fired back, and I was having more and more trouble keeping my temper in check.

I could actually _see_ myself slamming my fist into his condescending face.

"And most importantly," I continued. "There isn't enough money in the world to make me walk away from her."

"Right. Because you're in love with her," he said cynically. "Wise up, Detective. You think she's it for you? You think it's a happily-ever-after kind of thing? That's bullshit. I give it six months and you'll be banging the desk sergeant on your coffee break, so cut the crap about being in love, alright? I'm just offering you good money to do it sooner rather than later."

"You can take your money and shove it up your ass," I said as I started to walk away, ready to be done with him, but then I decided that I had to say my piece.

I turned back and said, "What is _wrong_ with you? You started criticizing her the second you showed up, and then she tells you that she was raped, nearly killed, and all you have to say about it is that it's probably because of how she dresses? And that it took away her self-confidence, leaving her susceptible to dating someone like me? What the hell is that? You think _I'm_ the one keeping you from your daughter? _You're_ keeping you from her. And what really kills me is that after everything you've said to her…after all the years you've ignored her, she still loves you. She still wants to please you, but you know what? I think this is the final straw. I think she's done with you now, because she's finally seeing you for what you really are. An elitist self-centered jackass in a nice suit."

We held each other's gaze for a long minute and then he finally dropped his eyes, looking down at the sidewalk. I shook my head in disgust and turned around.

"Bernard, wait."

I stopped walking, but didn't look back as I waited to hear what else he was going to say.

"What I said last night…I didn't…I'm not…I just want what's best for her."

I whirled around to face him again, and stepped right up in front of him so that we were toe to toe.

"_I'm_ what's best for her. Your little fantasy about the life you want for her is just that. A fantasy. And maybe if you took the time to find out who she really is and what she likes and what makes her tick, then you'd understand why she's happy being a cop in New York…with me."

"Okay," he said quietly.

"Okay, what? Okay…you're going to run back to St Paul?"

"No, I mean, maybe you're right."

"Maybe?"

"You _are_ right," he amended.

"And?"

"And maybe I need…to start listening to her, and accept her for who she is."

"Well, that'd be a hell of a start," I replied smartly, my temper still in overdrive.

"You know, it's easy for you to sit back and judge," he said.

"You think that there's anything about this that's easy for me? I sat there last night and listened to you pick her self-esteem apart and all I wanted to do was bash your smug face in, but see, that's the difference between you and me. I held back because I respect Lauren too much to hurt her like that. You, on the other hand, came at both of us with everything you could think of. What was the point of that exercise? I mean, I get why maybe you want her in St Paul, and I get why I might not be your first choice for her, but for you to be so callous about what happened to her…"

"I didn't know what to say," he interrupted. "What was I supposed to say to something like that?"

"How about _where's the bastard now so that I can kill him_? Because that was _my_ first response."

"But she was such a reckless teenager. Did she tell you I caught her in bed with a boy when she was only fifteen?"

"What does that have to do with her being brutalized in an alley when she was twenty-five? You're no better than that asshole's defense attorney. And you know, this is where I'm going to have to draw the line."

"What line?" he asked suspiciously.

"I want the two of you to have a good relationship, I really do. And I'll play nice, if that's what she wants. But I promise you, if you ever say another word to her that even remotely implies that what happened to her was in any way her fault…that'll be it. No one will ever find your body."

I was back on the subway ten minutes later, and fifteen minutes after that, I was almost back to 1PP.

It took me the entire twenty-five minutes to get my blood pressure back down to a normal rate, but I was feeling pretty good about the way things went.

I didn't hit him.

He kind of admitted to being wrong.

And he accepted my overt threat without batting an eye.

I'd halfway expected him to bluster about slapping me with a lawsuit of some sort, but he didn't.

He simply nodded his head and then reached in his jacket pocket to pull out another cigarette as he turned around and walked away.

"He'll probably be calling you," I told Lauren when she answered her cell. Now that I was calm again, I decided to fill her in before I had to go back to work.

"Is that good or bad?"

So I told her about the conversation.

Well, some of it.

I left out the part about him offering to buy me off.

And the part when I said I'd kill him if he hinted that any blame should be placed on her for the attack.

"Why do I get the sense that I'm getting a redacted version?" she asked when I finished.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course."

"Then let's let it go at that, okay?"

"Are you back to 1PP yet?" she asked after apparently deciding to follow my suggestion.

"I'm crossing the street out front now. Why?"

And that's when I saw her.

She was sitting on the front steps with her phone to her ear and my heart started thundering in my chest again, just from the sight of her.

She got to her feet, smiling at me as she put her phone away.

"What are you doing here?" I called out, stashing my phone in my pocket and hurrying the last several yards until I met her at the bottom of the steps.

"Connie and I were having lunch across the street, and then Lupo called and asked her to come by since you were out, and…"

I didn't let her finish.

Instead, I kissed her, hard and demanding until she caught up to my level of intensity, and then I backed off slightly, letting her take the lead with it.

It definitely wasn't the kind of kiss that should take place outside the front entrance of 1PP, but I figured what the hell. It's Sunday, right?

And I almost felt like a warrior who's just returned home from slaying the dragon.

Okay, so maybe that's a little over the top, but still…

I'm feeling good about things.

In fact, the parking garage is sounding pretty good right about now. I can see why it holds a certain appeal.

I mean, it's _close_.

If I had the keys, I'd be throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her to it right now.

But I don't. And that's okay, too.

"I love you," I said firmly when we finally broke off the kiss.

She looked at me, slightly surprised by my show of emotion.

"Are you okay? Did my father say something…"

"I'm fine. He just got me thinking, that's all."

"About what?"

"Happily ever after. You know I want that, right?"

"Who doesn't?"

I let my eyes wander over her briefly, and then I ran my hand over her hair, grabbing onto the ends as I said, "I mean, with you. No one else."

"It's too soon for you to say that," she argued softly, and a week or two ago, her words might have made me doubt myself…doubt her feelings for me. But now I know that her insecurity about us is because of how she thinks about _herself_.

"No it's not. I could've said it six weeks ago in the squad room upstairs, the first day I saw you sitting in Alex's chair."

She smiled and dropped her gaze for a moment before looking back up at me and saying in a teasing tone, "And yet you made me chase you."

"Yeah, but I let you catch me, right?" I replied with a grin.

She laughed and then slid her arms around me, resting her head against my chest.

"I love you, too, B."

"Good, so…this forever thing. One of these days…we're going to do something about that, right?"

I was being ambiguous, but it was the best I could do at the moment, and for some reason, after dealing with Grayson, I really wanted to establish that we _are_ going to last and that it's not just me who can't seem to breathe without thinking of her…that she's right there with me.

She held me just a little tighter, until I would swear I could feel her heart thudding along just as quickly as mine as she said the exact words I wanted to hear.

"Yes, we are."

TBC...


	95. Chapter 95

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

><p>"<em>You think it's a wasted trip<em>?"

The question was posed to me sometime in the middle of the night, in a deep, sleep-filled voice.

I'm not sure if I was awake before he spoke, or if the sound of his voice was enough to cut through the bonds of sleep, but it didn't matter.

I rolled towards him, running my hand over his chest as I snuggled up against him.

"_No_," I answered.

"_But what if she doesn't know anything?"_

"_Then we spent our Sunday on the Gulf Coast. I can think of worse things."_

"_But it's going to be a long day. It's a three-hour flight, then we have to rent a car and drive another half an hour…round trip makes it seven hours without even spending a minute with Cathleen."_

"_What else would we do all day? We don't have a case right now."_

"_You hate to fly."_

"_So it'll be good for me. I can learn to overcome my fear."_

"_Carolyn…" _he said on a sigh, and it hit me how nervous he was about the trip. I mean, I knew, but I guess it went even deeper than I thought.

"_Are you trying to talk yourself out of going_?" I asked, sliding my leg over his and hugging him closer against me.

"_I'm just…I think…you know, this is probably it_," he said at last. "_If she doesn't know anything, then…I'll just never know."_

"_Ah…so it's Bobby's cat."_

He chuckled, which is what I was going for.

"_Exactly. Until I open the box, then both possibilities still exist. She knows nothing…she knows everything…"_

"_But everything…what does that mean? What are you hoping to find out?"_

"_I want to know why he never contacted me. Why he never tried to see me. I want to know how he felt about having a son. Did he feel strapped by it? Burdened?"_

"_Why confess it to O'Connor as a regret about never knowing you if he felt burdened?"_ I pointed out.

"_True_," he agreed, relaxing slightly as he started running his hand over my back. "_And you're sure you're okay with flying twice in one day?"_

"_I'll be perfectly fine."_

Famous last words.

Fine isn't exactly how I would describe myself _now_, as I'm buckling into the plush seat aboard John's plane, preparing for take-off.

I've been trying to ignore the gnawing anxiety in my stomach by focusing on Mike.

After all, this trip is about him, not me.

"You know how safe planes are, right?" he asked me, clearly picking up on my tension. "Did you know that May is actually the safest month to fly?"

"It is not," I said, not wanting to laugh, but doing so anyway.

"Okay, I made that up. But I once read somewhere that if you fly normal airline services all day, everyday it would take on average 27,000 years before you were involved in a crash, and even then you would have a forty percent chance of surviving it. So you know what that means, right?"

"Yeah. You've been spending entirely too much time with Bobby."

"Ha ha. It means that we're perfectly safe. And you know that John keeps this plane maintained better than any commercial plane."

And now guilt is added to the pile of apprehension because _I'm_ supposed to be helping _Mike_, and yet he's the one trying to make me feel better.

_It's a fucking plane, Carolyn. People do it every day._

"I know. I'm fine," I assured him, wishing that it weren't too early for a shot of tequila.

Two shots, maybe.

"I'm going to tell the pilot that we're ready," he said after he stashed our small duffle bag under one of the seats. "I'll be right back."

"I'm not going anywhere," I replied.

He stared at me for a minute, surely taking in my rigid posture and the seatbelt that was already buckled and pulled much tighter than was necessary and the way I was gripping the armrests.

He flashed me an understanding smile and turned towards the cockpit.

I closed my eyes and gave myself a pep talk.

What's the worst that can happen?

_The plane goes down and we all die_, my mind supplied quickly.

Okay, but if I'm going to die, at least I'm with Mike, right?

Odd rationale maybe, but somehow it made me feel a little better.

"All set," Mike told me when he returned. He sat down next to me and buckled in, and then reached out for my hand.

"That's okay. I don't want to scar you," I told him.

"You can scratch me anytime, anywhere, sweetheart," he said, grinning at me as he laced his fingers through mine.

I couldn't keep from tightening my grip on him when the engine started up, and he leaned his head close to mine and said, "We don't have to go."

"We're going."

"Okay," he said with a nod. Then he brought our joined hands to his lips and kissed my knuckles before saying, "So…want me to tell you a story?"

Sometimes it hits me harder than others, just how much I love him.

"I'd love to hear a story."

"A romance? Murder-mystery? Something a little…steamier?" he questioned, dropping his voice and waggling his eyebrows at me.

"Oh, I can't resist a good, steamy story."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

So while the plane taxied and waited for clearance and then broached speeds fast enough to somehow defy the laws of nature and send us into flight, Mike occupied my mind.

And he's _really_ good at weaving a fantasy.

Almost as good as he is at making them come to life.

We were somewhere over Virginia before I even took notice that we were actually in the air, and I was practically buzzing from his sexy tone and titillating words.

At that point, the co-pilot came out to chat with us for a minute, doubling as a flight attendant by offering us something to drink and then discussing the generalities of the flight plan and the weather.

"We'll have you in Pensacola by eleven-thirty," he concluded as he made his way back into the cockpit.

"I could get used to this," Mike commented. "How're you holding up?"

"I'm great, thanks to you."

"You _are_ great," he agreed. "I can't tell you enough how much I appreciate you coming with me."

"I never considered not coming with you."

"I know. That's what gets me," he said, his face serious as he studied me. "I could tell you I have to crawl through a scorpion-filled pit, and you'd be right there beside me."

"Well…are you talking about something like the European yellow-tailed scorpions? Or do you mean a fat-tailed scorpion? Because you know one is harmless but the other is fatal, and I don't know if I love you _that_ much," I teased.

He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes as he continued to stare at me, running his fingers over the palm of my hand.

"I mean it. I never had anyone in my life who was a constant, someone I could count on to always be there for me."

"Well, now you do," I replied simply.

"Yes, I do," he agreed.

He fell silent then, and I knew that his mind was back on the purpose of our trip.

He'd temporarily put his thoughts on hold to help me, but now that I was mostly comfortable with the fact that we're thirty thousand miles up in the air, he resumed his mulling over possible outcomes.

It was my turn to help him.

"I'll be right back," I said as I let go of his hand.

I paused before unbuckling, because I do _not_ unbuckle mid-flight, but even I can recognize the ridiculousness of that notion. If we go down, my seatbelt isn't going to save me.

"Where are you going?" he asked as I finally made myself release the buckle so that I could get to my feet.

"Don't let anyone else take my seat," I joked, avoiding his question.

Although, I'm not sure where he thought I would go.

Strap on a chute and jump?

It wouldn't be the first time, but it certainly wasn't high on my to-do list.

I knocked on the cockpit door and then opened it a crack, speaking briefly to the pilots before returning to where Mike was seated.

"Checking on our fuel level?" he quipped.

"Ensuring our privacy," I countered, and then I reached down and flipped up the armrests on either side of him before easing down onto his lap.

"Um…" he said hesitantly as I leaned in to kiss along his jaw, rubbing my body against him as I did so.

"I want to join the mile high club," I said softly. "Are you in?"

He was in.

He's _always_ in, and after his initial uncertainty, there was no looking back.

And really, it was a win-win opportunity.

We created a wonderful memory for me to associate with flying, _and_ we took his mind off of our upcoming meeting with Cathleen.

"I feel like a new man," he stated, a couple of hours later as we stood on the tarmac at Pensacola Regional Airport.

"It's the Florida sunshine."

"No, it's you," he countered. "That was…completely unexpected and yet I can't tell you how much it helped my state of mind."

"You don't have to," I replied with a smile.

"Whatever happens today…it's just information. Because in the end, it'll always come down to you and me."

And he tries to say he's not romantic.

Not only can I _not_ imagine my life without him, but I wouldn't even want to try.

"Exactly," I agreed.

Twenty minutes later, we were driving along Highway 292, heading for the Bayou Chico.

"Think we should've called first?" I asked as he maneuvered the convertible into the marina parking lot.

"And have her say no? No. She's much more likely to talk to us if we show up on her doorstep. Or on her dock. Whatever."

I nodded my agreement as he found a place to park, and then we got out of the car and walked towards the slip of Cathleen's houseboat.

He held my hand tightly, but that was the only outward sign of nervousness.

Well, that and he was dressed in a suit.

His armor.

"This is a private area," a woman called out to us as I fiddled with the latch on the dock gate.

"We're visiting," I called back.

"Who?" she questioned.

I watched her as she stepped off of her boat and walked over towards the gate, where I was still trying to open the latch.

I can pick a lock at the pentagon, but apparently I can't figure out how to work a simple hook and eye.

I suppose it's nerves, because I'm suddenly worried that things aren't going to go well.

The stranger's lack of hospitality had me wondering if that would be the trend in Bayou Chico.

She stopped directly on the other side, staring at me as I finally paused in my efforts, and I flashed her what I hoped was a congenial smile.

"Cathleen Monaghan," I answered. "Do you know her?"

She continued to eyeball me skeptically, so I did the same, taking in her dark hair and leathered skin, tanned deep from spending so much time in the sun.

"I do," she said with a nod, and then she finally turned to look at Mike.

"Well, Janey Mac!" she yelled suddenly, putting her hands on her hips. "It's you."

"Um…" he began uncertainly.

"You're Cathleen?" I asked in surprise.

I'd been expecting someone older, I guess.

This woman didn't look much more than fifty.

Or at least, I didn't think so.

But I suppose sometimes it's hard to tell, and a box of Clairol can do wonders for masking a woman's age.

"All my life," she said with a nod, keeping her eyes on Mike. "And you're Casey's boy."

"You recognize me?"

"I'd know those eyes anywhere, even if I'd never seen a picture of you. Which, believe me, I _have_," she said dramatically. "You know, every day I was married to that man, I expected for you to show up on our doorstep, but I never dreamed you'd turn up now."

"Better late than never?" he posed cautiously.

The jury was still out on whether or not she was actually happy to see him, but I thought it was a good sign that she willingly acknowledged knowing him.

_And_ that she'd seen pictures.

So Shannon had been keeping in touch with Casey?

For more than just his money?

I found that hard to believe, but what other explanation could there be?

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Cathleen asked, finally breaking into a smile as she easily flipped open the latch on the gate before pulling it open and taking a step back and saying, "Come aboard!"

TBC...


	96. Chapter 96

**Mary POV**

* * *

><p>"So how was the baseball game?"<p>

"Mets lost, 3-2."

"I wasn't asking for the score."

Jennifer glanced up at me with a wry smile on her face and then shook her head and refocused on the file in front of us.

"You're not going to tell me?" I pressed.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

"Then no, I'm not going to tell you."

"You will on Friday," I replied confidently.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because. It's girls' night," I explained. "You know, me, Alex, Carolyn…um, let's see…Lauren, Liz…Connie…oh, and Jose Cuervo. He's not really a girl, but..."

"Sounds like fun, but…I'm invited?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Because I barely know any of them. Why would they want me to come?"

"You're my partner," I said with a shrug, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. "And Connie's close with Mike and since you're dating him, well…are you coming or not?"

She sat back in her chair, tossing her pen onto the file as she eyeballed me carefully.

"Are you sure?"

"Jeez, Austin, it's an informal get together. We drink too much tequila, we talk about our sex lives, and afterwards, we meet up with our significant others and reap the benefits of them having just participated in a testosterone-filled poker game. What's the problem?"

She broke into a grin and said, "Um…no problem at all. Okay, I'm in. Thanks. Although, I'm not sure there'll be much reaping for me."

"Oh, Mike's going to the poker game. John spoke with him about it yesterday."

"He told me. I'm just saying, we're not…enjoying benefits yet," she stated. Then she added, "Well, some benefits, but…"

"Didn't you stay at his place again last night?"

"Yeah. And you know, it's kind of weird because aside from the no-sex thing, it's like we're in a long-term relationship already. And I just met him last week."

"The no-sex is your idea? Or his idea?"

"Both, actually. We're breaking patterns."

She picked up her pen again and flipped the page in the file, but her remark had me thinking about my relationship with John.

That's exactly why we ended up waiting – because I didn't want him to be like every other relationship.

_And I told Marshall that_, I thought, still stinging from my conversation with him last night. _He should know that John's different._

But can I blame him for pointing out what he thinks is going to be the end result?

Isn't he just trying to save me from making a mistake by getting married?

Maybe.

But it's not a mistake, because everything about us just feels right and I've never been happier.

And I think I knew that at the hotel in Denver, the night I dragged him into my room. Because it's not like me to hold back. But with John, I was looking ahead. To further than the next half-hour, I mean.

"John and I waited two months," I confessed.

"Two months?" she asked in surprise. "Wow. I'm…not that strong. I promised myself two weeks, and I'm pretty sure the wait is going to kill me."

I laughed at the conviction with which she made the remark, and then I said, "Well, we weren't living in the same state, so that helped a little. But you know, there are other things you can do to take the edge off…"

"Oh, I know," she answered quickly. The she smiled smugly and said, "In fact, when I left his place this morning, there was barely any edge at all."

"See? You _will_ have drunken confessions to make then."

"Some, yes. It's just that…you know, every time I see him, I want to rip his clothes off of him. And then I try to rationalize why it wouldn't be a big deal to just do what I want to do, and…I don't know. If I keep sleeping in his bed, I'm not sure I'll make it."

"Stick to your guns, Austin," I said firmly, deciding that it was time to wrap up our personal chat since I could see Bernard approaching through the window. "You'll be glad that you did. And it's only, what…six more days?"

"Yeah," she said on a sigh.

Bernard opened up the door and stuck his head in.

"I'm back. Lauren's with me and offered to help. Does that work for you?"

"Sure. Is everything okay?"

"Better, thanks. Sorry for walking out on you, but it was something that couldn't wait."

"It happens. No harm done. Connie's working with Lupo, right? Going over Marco's past?"

"That's right. I'm not sure if he's found anything new."

"That's fine. Leave them to it. I want you to dig into Christina's mom. What's her connection to Brozi and does it still exist? And see if there any other possible children or grandchildren of Brozi, either with her or someone else."

"You got it," he agreed with a nod.

He closed the door, leaving us alone again, and after a minute, Jennifer asked, "What's Lauren's story?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, don't you think she's annoyingly gorgeous?"

I had to laugh, because she's just _so_ much like me, but I still had to set her straight.

"I thought that for the first five seconds. And then I got to know her. I actually met her for the first time at one of our gatherings. She poured me a shot of tequila and listened to me bitch about not being able to find an apartment and then she immediately told me about an opening in her building. She told me to use her as a reference, and she put in a call to the manager…I mean, she didn't know me at all. She didn't have to do any of that, but it's just who she is. She's just really, _really_ nice. And don't let her looks fool you. From what I hear, she's right up there with you in the tackle-takedown category."

"Huh," she mused.

"What?"

"Nothing. So she and Bernard…"

"They moved in together yesterday. If you want to talk about annoying, you should see the way those two look at each other. It's like…"

"You and John?"

"Yeah," I replied with a smile. "Just like me and John. What's with the quiz? Did you hear something?"

"No. It's just…she called Mike this morning, kind of early. He didn't take it because he was in the shower, but after I told him about it, he still didn't call her back while I was there."

"And you think…what? That she's got a thing for him? Or him for her?"

She sighed and ran her hand through her hair and then shook her head.

"Not really. But do you have any idea how many times I've hooked up with guys who're hung up on someone else? I guess maybe I'm a little paranoid."

"Don't be. She probably just called about a case."

"That's what he said, but then he said it was personal. And I believe him that it's not _that_ kind of personal," she said firmly. "I guess now that I'm not standing a few feet away from where he's taking a shower, I'm trying to have a little perspective."

"Austin, you lost your balls again. He's into you. You're into him. If you think Lauren's some kind of issue, then ask her about it. But I'm telling you, she's not."

She groaned loudly and got up from her chair.

"I _know_," she said with irritation. "Why am I doing this? We've got this really nice thing going on, and I'm suddenly overcome with doubts."

"It's because you're not sleeping with him," I said simply. "Subconsciously you're worried that if you're not giving it to him, he's going to be looking for it somewhere else."

"Oh my God," she mumbled. "Why didn't I think of that? So…okay, that settles it. I'm not waiting."

"Yes, you are," I told her, even though it's none of my business. "Because you'll realize that there's more to you than sex. He likes you for you. And he's _not_ out looking. When would he? From what I can tell, the two of you have been together almost every off-the-clock hour since…I don't know. Wednesday, maybe."

"You're right. You're exactly right. Why am I having so much trouble thinking rationally?"

"Sexual frustration. I think maybe you need to have that edge taken off again," I joked.

"_That_ is a really good idea," she replied. "When are we getting out of here?"

"Soon," I said.

We got back to work, more seriously this time, and after about thirty minutes, she tapped the table, getting my attention.

"What'd you find?"

"Another murder. Check this out."

She flipped the laptop around so that I could look at it with her.

"This is in Manteo," I pointed out.

"North Carolina. Outer Banks. Right smack in between Manns Harbor and Nags Head."

"Home invasion…two taps to the head…five dead, including three children…it's the same MO," I said in surprise. "What's the date on this?"

"One week before Marco moved back to New York."

"And Derek would've still been stationed there," I mused. "But…who are the victims?"

"Greg and Helen Freeman," she read. "Along with their two daughters, and one of the neighbor's kids, who happened to be spending the night."

"These guys are a couple of sick fucks," I muttered. "But how the hell does this relate?"

"Hey, Mary," Bernard said as he opened the door again. "I might have something."

Lauren was right behind him, and I waved both of them in.

"What is it?"

"For shits and giggles, we ran Brozi's name through each state's OVR, looking for any birth certificate that has his name on it, listed as the father."

"And you found one?"

"In North Carolina."

"Wait, I'm sensing a psychic revelation coming on," I said. "Greg Freeman? And if you say yes, I'm going to kiss the ever-loving bejesus out of you."

"Damn," he said, snapping his fingers in feigned disappointment.

"You just saved yourself an ass-whipping," Lauren told me with a smirk. "He's not allowed to participate in extra-curricular activities that don't include me."

"Oh, I would've kissed you, too," I told her. "Okay, so who is it?"

"Helen Olenek," he stated, chuckling at our banter.

"Helen?" I questioned, eyeballing Jennifer.

"Hang on," she said, quickly typing something into the computer.

"Who's Greg Freeman?" Lauren asked me.

"One of the victims in a home invasion-murder in the Outer Banks."

"Bingo," Jennifer said triumphantly. "I pulled up the obituary. Helen Olenek Freeman. It's the same woman. They killed her because she's Brozi's kid."

"So this started a long time before we got involved," I mused. "She's wiping out any potential competition."

"So what made her go to the US Attorney? That's brought attention on her that she didn't need."

"She had trouble when it came time to take down Rama and Demachi," Bernard stated. "She couldn't just kill them, or it would turn them into legends."

"You're right. She wanted them to self-destruct. That way, not only will she take over, but everyone will be glad she did. She'll be the damn Cleopatra of the Albanian mob."

"And the baby?" Jennifer asked. "If she made plans to destroy everyone else, then why would she need to get pregnant?"

"It helps make her look innocent," Lauren posed.

"It did that," I agreed. "And it's her fallback. She can always cozy up to Brozi by reminding him that she has his grandchild."

"The only one he has left, now that she's killed the others," Bernard pointed out.

"Are we sure it'll be the only one? You didn't find any more birth certificates?"

"No, but that doesn't mean anything. It's hard to say how many other kids he might have, if the mothers didn't list his name."

"I need Mulder," I decided suddenly. I turned to Bernard and said, "Get Lupo to call and see if he'll stop by."

"He's already on his way."

"Good. And has anyone heard from Alex and Bobby?"

"No. You want me to check on them?"

"I'll do it," I said as I got up from my chair. "And I need some coffee. Let's take a ten-minute break and we'll regroup."

I opened the door and stepped out in to the hall just as Bobby and Alex turned the corner.

With Demachi in tow.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked them.

"He decided to turn himself in," Alex said with a smirk.

"I was arrested under false pretenses," Demachi shouted as Bobby jerked on his arm, tugging him towards an interrogation room. The mobster was bleeding and limping heavily, but it didn't keep him from trying to resist.

"I wasn't doing anything," he insisted, trying to pull away from Bobby's grasp.

_Good luck with that_, I thought. Bobby has him by at least six inches and fifty pounds.

"You tried to run us over," Alex said calmly.

"You were shooting at me!"

"You shot at us first," she retorted. She pulled the door open and pointed at the empty chair. "Now sit down and shut up until we come back."

Of course, Bobby made sure that would happen by chaining Demachi to the table, and then he came back out into the hall, closing the door behind him.

"So this mysterious text…"

"It's a long story."

"Well, feel free to run another errand and come back with Rama," I told them. "Seriously, what's going on?"

I caught the look that passed between Alex and Bobby, and it made me all that much more suspicious.

"Hey, Mary!" Lupo called out. "We might have something!"

And then Daniels came around the corner, looking at me intently as he said, "Yeah, I think we've got something, too, Mary."

At the same time, my cell phone buzzed, so I pulled it out and quickly glanced at the text from John.

_**I'm on my way to 1PP. I need to tell you something. It's about your case. Don't be mad. **_

My case?

How the hell does John know something about my case?

And I know him well enough to know that if he's _telling_ me not to be mad, then I probably have damn good reason to be furious, and _that_ thought actually makes me more fearful than angry.

"For the love of all that's sacred and holy," I mumbled. "Okay…I need coffee."

I stood there for a moment, with my hand on my hips, waiting to see if anyone was going to challenge my statement.

"You…want me to get it for you?" Alex asked me. "Because that's not really part of my job description."

"Tell me about it. Single-handedly nabbing fugitives. That's what you do."

Bobby raised an eyebrow at me, and I added, "Okay, double-handedly. But still…"

"It fell into our laps," Alex explained.

"It's a good thing," I said quickly. "I'm just trying to play catch up."

"Then get some coffee."

"Alex, Bobby!"

I looked up to see Ross crossing the squad room, with Jeremy hot on his heels.

And I won't say that Ross looked ticked, but his expression was almost one of dread.

"I came right down," he said to them. "What's going on?"

"We're getting ready to get to it," Alex said. "But we definitely need to fill you in on an…incident that happened this afternoon."

She looked at me warily when she said it, and I said, "Please tell me this doesn't have anything at all to do with John."

"John?" Bobby asked innocently.

"He's on his way here. He says he has information on the case. You two disappeared…came back with a key player in custody…"

"Get your coffee," Alex said, which isn't anywhere close to the denial I was hoping for.

I glanced over at Jeremy and said, "If you'll bring me the biggest cup of coffee you can find, I'll dump John and run away with you to a Tahitian love nest."

Jeremy grinned at me and made a beeline for the break room, so I turned and faced everyone else.

"Okay, let's sit down in the conference room and debrief."

TBC...


	97. Chapter 97

**Ross POV**

* * *

><p>"Okay, so he wasn't a bed-wetter, but we've still got something good."<p>

"Lay it out, McInnis," Alex said. "Anything to distract the heat from us will be much appreciated."

"He could have found the Lindbergh baby, and it's not going to take the heat off of you," I said wryly. "Are you sure we need to wait for John? Because I'm dying to know how Demachi ended up with a bullet in his leg."

And I was even more curious as to why that bullet hole looked small…much too small to have come from the .45's that my detectives carry.

At the moment, Liz was on her way over to take a look at Demachi's leg. Not exactly protocol, to ask the ME over to administer first aid, but I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm going to need to employ a bit of CYA.

And I hated interrupting Liz's lunch with Cecilia, but she assured me that they were mostly done.

"_And it was good_?" I asked, taking just a moment to make sure that my wife is okay.

"_It was very good."_

We left it at that for now, but I'd come back to it later.

_After_ the present fiasco is properly damage-controlled.

"Get this," Daniels said, picking up his partner's thread. "Bailey's got unexplained income."

"How much?" Mary asked him.

"A few hundred thousand."

"Peanuts," Lupo said. "Brozi's a multi-millionaire."

"This is just in the past year," Daniels clarified. "And we don't think he's on Brozi's payroll. We think he's on Christina's."

"Wait, you're talking about the US Attorney?" I asked as it suddenly hit me where they were going with this. "When did he become a suspect?"

"When he decided to play do-si-do with my witness," Mary stated. "He's covering for her, trying to keep us from interviewing her."

"And she was able to buy him off? How would she have known that would work?"

"We think he knew Marco and Derek from before," Lupo said.

"This is an elaborate scheme," Jennifer said. "She decided she wanted to take over for Brozi, and she hasn't half-assed anything. She meticulously planned it out. She researched Brozi's kids and killed them off."

"And then she started up affairs with both Rama and Demachi, probably in an effort to get inside information," McInnis added.

"And then she called Bailey and set herself up as a witness, gaining immunity while the entire law enforcement community went after her competition," Bernard contributed.

"Who is this woman?" I mused. "Please tell me she's not related to Nicole Wallace."

"I actually already looked into that angle," Bobby admitted. Lupo looked at him questioningly, but he shrugged and said, "She's the most devious woman I know, and for a long time, every case we had involving conniving women somehow came back to her. She's dead now, but since Christina's small and blonde…"

"And vicious and bitchy," Alex added. "We checked it out. No relation."

"Good to know," I replied.

"But we did find out that Marco was lying about only knowing Christina for six months," Lupo spoke up. "She's been banging him for at least two years."

"And you know this…how?" I asked cautiously.

"Oh, we found it in the NSD," Bernard said with a grin.

"NSD?"

"Yeah, you know, the National Sex Database. It keeps track of all the boot-knocking going on. I can show you, boss," he stated with an innocent look on his face. He grabbed one of the laptops and pulled it closer to him as he asked, "You want me to look you up?"

There were a few chuckles as I continued to stare at him incredulously, and then, despite my tension, I had to smile.

"No thank you, Bernard. But seriously…"

"What my partner is trying to say is that I found an expunged arrest record. It seems Christina and Marco have a penchant for copulating on public transportation."

"The subway?"

"The North Carolina ferry system," Connie spoke up. I'd almost forgotten that she was in the room with us, but I guess she's been helping out with the research. "And you know, it's not easy to get an adult arrest record expunged."

"You mean it might take something like knowing someone in the US Attorney's office?" Alex asked.

Connie nodded and shrugged as Daniels said, "So we can put Christina and Marco together earlier. How does that help?"

"I think they planned this whole thing together," Bobby said. "Did we ever find out who his father is?"

"Not definitively, but we were able to put his mother with a man other than Brozi approximately twenty-five years ago," Lupo answered. "And guess who it is."

"We've got too much to discuss to start playing guessing games," I said. "Who is it?"

"Olaf Chekevski."

"The Russian mobster out of Toronto?" Bobby asked in surprise.

"You just have a who's who of Mafiosos rolodex in your head?" Bernard asked him.

"He has an entire set of Encyclopedia Britannica in his head," Alex answered with a roll of her eyes.

"Does anyone even use encyclopedias anymore?" Jennifer asked.

"No, but I'm sure he can tap Google with that brain of his, too," Mary stated. "Okay, so…now what? Marco and Christina are setting up a merging of the two organizations by having a love child and killing the competition?"

"What better way for the Canadian faction of the Russian mob to expand into New York?" Bobby agreed. "If they're working with the Albanians, they'll be able to overrun the present Brighton Beach population without much trouble."

"We need a murder board," I said as I looked around the room. "Because I don't know about everyone else, but I'm having a hard time keeping up with the score."

"Marco and Christina are working together," Jennifer said while Daniels and McInnis started writing corresponding statements on the dry erase board.

"They've tracked Brozi's family, and they're having them taken out."

"Christina used Bailey to set up Demachi, and Rama was probably next on her list. She knew they'd go down and she'd be in the clear for any potential crimes. She paid Bailey to keep him on her side."

"Derek was muscle, and he was paid for his loyalty, too. Only for some reason, Christina decided to sleep with him, and when Marco found out, he killed him."

"Right. _After_ Derek and Marco killed that family in North Carolina, and the Cincinelli family here in the city."

"And in the meantime, word is spreading throughout the organization that Christina's going to be the new sheriff in town. Foot soldiers are going AWOL right and left, waiting to take their spot in line behind her rather than risk getting on her bad side."

"Which is why the efforts of Demachi and Rama to find Christina, and their attempts to take out certain members of law enforcement have been so haphazard."

The detectives and inspectors paused in their summary while McInnis and Daniels caught up to them, and then I asked, "Okay, so what's left that we need to know?"

"Me and B are going at Marco," Lupo stated immediately. "If we can get him to confess to killing Derek, that'll go a long way towards giving us leverage to get him talking about everything else."

"He's not going to confess," Mary said. "His father's a mobster. I'm sure he knows how to keep his mouth shut."

"Yeah, but he has a temper, right? That could work. I mean, Bernard got him to punch him pretty quickly."

"True, but it never takes me long to want to slug him either," Lauren joked.

"Thanks for the back-up, sweetheart," Bernard replied with a roll of his eyes, and then he looked at me guiltily and I can only guess that the term of endearment slipped out unintentionally.

Like I was going to bust his balls about it.

Last year, maybe.

Now I've got two sets of married detectives, plus another who aren't married, but are dating and working the same department. Not to mention the fact that Connie's involved in our debriefing plus she helped Lupo all afternoon with his investigative work, which in the old days would've ruffled my feathers.

I don't monitor their hours or bat an eye when they want to jump in on each other's cases…I've got a bleeding suspect in an interrogation room waiting on my wife…I've got a civilian on his way in to report something new about the case after conducting some kind of sting, and I've got a hacker coming in to try to access records that aren't supposed to be accessible…

I think it's safe to say that I probably run one of the most unconventional departments in the country.

_And the most effective_, my mind supplied.

So there's definitely something to be said for alternative methods.

"Can we get back on track here?" I asked with a smirk, interrupting the rampant jokes involving pet names. "I think it's more important to establish our needs list than it is to learn that off the clock, Lupo goes by the name Hunny-bunny."

Of course, that sparked off another round of laughter, but then we got back to it.

"Breaking Marco will help tremendously," Mary said. "And we need to find a way to bring Rama in. After that, we put Bailey's balls in a vice, and we should be good to go."

A knock on the door got everyone's attention, and Alex opened it, since she was closest.

"Sorry to interrupt," John said uneasily.

"_That's_ what you're sorry for?" Mary said as she got to her feet.

"Hang on," Alex interrupted. "Can we get information from him before you kill him?"

"No one's killing anyone," I said. "But I would like to have the room for a few minutes. Mary, John…Alex, Bobby…you stay."

It took a moment for the crowd to filter out into the hallway, and at the same time, Liz arrived.

"So…just patch him up?" she asked me as she poked her head into the room.

"Yeah, but don't go in alone. He's locked up, but still…"

"No problem. And…"

She trailed off for a moment, taking in the two couples seated at the conference table and then the rest of the gang in the hallway.

"Never mind," she finished. "I'll take care of him, and then I'll stick around until you're done. Jeremy's still here?"

"He's working on another pot of coffee," I said with a nod.

She flashed me an encouraging smile, and I was glad to actually see that she looked like things went well, as opposed to just taking her word for it.

_Cecilia must have really come around_, I thought. _Thanks in part to Mulder._

And just as I thought about the man-child genius, he showed up in the squad room as well, sporting a visitor's pass which he'd conspicuously clipped next to his FBI badge.

I guess I can't blame him for wanting to show that thing off.

"Hey, Chief," he said with a wave, and then Liz pulled the door closed and I had to shift my focus back onto the situation at hand.

"What would make you do that?" I heard Mary whispering harshly. "I mean, that was stupid, John. You could've been killed."

"O'Connor was there."

"O'Connor?" I asked in surprise. "Wait, you were working with the Irish mob boss?"

"Briefly," John answered.

"And this relates to Demachi getting shot? How?"

"Because I…"

"He was there," Alex interrupted. "He was outside Mike's house when it happened."

"Okay. For the purpose of…"

"I wanted the Albanians to follow me. O'Connor agreed to help me out by employing some of his interrogation techniques on the mobsters in an effort to find out more details about what's going on."

"I see," I said calmly. And no, calm wasn't exactly my first response, but Mary looked about ready to blow a gasket, so I figured that she was mad enough for all of us. "And did you learn anything valuable? During your observation of the sit-down between the Irish and the Albanians?"

"I know how you can get Rama."

I nodded and took a seat at the table, deciding that the entire team might need to hear this new information, but I still needed to know what had transpired earlier this afternoon.

"Come back to that," I said. "Tell me what happened. And I don't mean the version you're going to put in your report. I mean everything."

John opened his mouth, but Alex glared at him while Bobby started talking, and then the two of them tag-teamed the narrative.

"They had Molotov cocktails?" Mary interrupted at one point. "And a car bomb?"

"Both of which were handled," John said.

"Yeah, because Alex and Bobby followed you. What if they didn't?"

"Then the Irish still would've taken those guys out before they could throw the fire bombs at the house."

"Maybe. Or Mike's house would currently be a big-ass pile of ashes right now, and it would take a whole team of forensic scientists to identify your charred remains!"

"Mary…" John said soothingly. "I was careful. So was O'Connor."

She stared at him for another minute and then dropped her gaze to the table, and I could feel the fear rolling off of her. She might be coming across as mad but she's much more scared at the prospect of what might have happened.

"Finish," I said to the Gorens.

"Well, as we might do in any non-violent altercation," Alex said pointedly. "We decided that the parties involved had properly cooled off, so we didn't make any arrests. We were ready to head back to the precinct, when a car came roaring down the street, heading straight for us."

"The passenger window came down, and the suspect started firing at us, at which time we returned fire. After a couple of dozen rounds were exchanged, the suspect ran his car into a telephone pole."

"Bobby got Demachi out of the wrecked car while I sent...um...the _by-standers_ on their way, and then we put the suspect in the car."

"And during the drive back here, we called you and we called for a tow truck to take Demachi's car to the police impound lot."

They finished their description and then looked at each other for a moment before they both turned to look me in the eye.

"That's it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Because I would think a .45 would do a lot more damage than what was done to Demachi's leg. I'm pretty sure a bullet of that size would've broken the bone, at least."

"It probably lost velocity when it went through the car door," Alex posed.

"Maybe," I said with a nod. "Okay, so…where are the Albanians who were roughed up for information?"

"I'm sorry, Chief. Roughed up?" John asked innocently.

"The ones interrogated by O'Connor."

"Oh. Them. Um…I'm not sure. They mentioned something about going out for a beer together, and then of course, I had to come here, so…"

"A beer. Right. And your news on Rama?"

For the first time since he entered the room, John smiled.

"He and Demachi have a meeting set up. Tomorrow at noon. They're going to discuss their unexpected problem."

"Meaning Christina?"

"That's the theory, yes."

"So all we have to do is crash the meeting," Alex said excitedly.

"And we'll have Rama," Bobby finished. "Nice work, John."

"No, not nice work, John," Mary said. "This is what _I_ do. This is not what _you_ do. You can't just jump into an investigation any time you feel the need to help me out. It doesn't work like that. You seriously could've been killed. _Again_, after almost getting killed yesterday."

I could tell she was nowhere near done, so I got up and looked at Alex and Bobby, tipping my head towards the door.

"Let's catch the others up, and let Lupo and Bernard get started on Marco," I suggested.

"Good idea."

"I'll be out in a minute," Mary said, still looking at John.

"Take your time," I told her. Then I smirked at John before telling Mary, "Oh, and Liz is here, if you need her services."

"I just might take you up on that."

We left Mary and John alone in the conference room, meeting the others out in the hall.

Mulder was talking quietly with Lupo, slightly away from everyone else.

"We know where Rama's going to be tomorrow," Alex announced. "We can pick him up."

"Okay, so…let's see if I can make Marco mad enough to make a confession," Bernard said with a nod. "Lupes?"

"Yeah," he replied, and then he talked to Mulder for another second before slapping him on the shoulder and heading our direction. "Yeah, I'm ready."

"You sure? I can take someone else in, if you want."

"No, I'm good. Let's do it."

TBC...


	98. Chapter 98

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>"Are you sure we shouldn't tell him the truth?"<p>

"No. You think there's any way it can come out?" Alex whispered in response.

"If there was a witness, maybe. Someone who saw John with the gun."

"You mean someone other than O'Connor?"

"Yeah. There's no way Demachi would've noticed. There was too much going on."

"Right. And you think there might've been innocent bystanders watching it go down?"

I paused for a minute, mulling over the information in my mind.

I don't like lying to Ross, but I also don't want to put him in the position of having to take action against John.

And really, what's the harm in fudging the truth this time?

Alex and I were both firing our weapons.

It's possible that one of _our_ bullets hit Demachi.

Although Ross did have a point about the minimal damage…but still, it's not like Demachi's dead.

What difference does it make who pulled the trigger during a good shoot?

"I think we're in the clear," I said at last.

And then all discussion on the matter ended when Ross entered the room, after having lingered in the hallway for a moment to talk to another detective.

"Have they started yet?" he asked.

"They're going through the preliminaries," Jennifer said.

"How come boy wonder didn't stick around?" Ross asked Connie. "I thought he was going to do some hacking for us."

"He…has a date," she said, biting back a smile.

"Really," Alex said. "Anyone we know?"

"With the woman who thought she was Liz's daughter. Cecilia."

"It's been way too long since I've talked to Liz," Alex said under her breath, and I have to agree.

In real time, it might not have actually been that long, but considering how fast things seem to happen in our world…a couple of days can feel like an eternity.

"Mulder has a date with her?" Ross asked Connie in surprise.

"Is that a problem for you?"

"No, it's just…she's thirty."

"And he's twenty-four," Connie said defensively. "How much older are you than Liz?"

"I didn't mean that," he said, still with a perplexed look on his face.

"Good, because Bernard's eight years older than me," Lauren spoke up. "So I have to agree with Connie on this one. Age isn't that big of a deal."

"I know, I'm just saying…he's so…_young_."

"Lupo gave him some advice. He'll be fine for today," Connie stated. "But that's why he had to leave. He said he'll be happy to do some work from home later this evening."

"He'll probably be able to track the Brozi family history back to the Middle Ages using a remote control and some tin foil," Alex joked.

"Here they go," Daniels said as he turned up the volume on the speaker.

I turned around and looked through the window to where Marco sat at a table, with his lawyer next to him. Bernard was across from Marco, and Lupo was standing along the side wall.

"_**Mr. Sterescu,"**_ Bernard said with a hint of condescension. _**"Let's start by talking about your relationship with Christina Cincinelli."**_

"_**Asked and answered, Detective,"**_ the lawyer spoke up.

"_**This isn't a courtroom. I can ask him the same question all afternoon if I want to. And maybe I'm just trying to see if he gives me the same lie that he gave before."**_

"_**I have a pretty good memory,"**_ Marco said with a smirk.

"_**Oh, you do?"**_ Lupo asked, jumping in on the conversation. "_**Good. Then let's not talk about Christina just yet. How about instead you start by telling us what you remember about Greg and Helen Freeman? Do those names ring a bell? Do you remember their daughters, too?"**_

"_**I don't have any idea what you're talking about."**_

"_**Detectives, what's this about?"**_ the lawyer asked haughtily. "_**Is my client being investigated for another crime?"**_

"_**Did he commit another crime?"**_

The lawyer rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, but Marco sat still, with his elbows resting on the table as he fiddled with a chunky gold ring that was on his little finger.

"_**One was twelve**_," Lupo continued. "_**The other two were eight. Does that make you feel like a man? Killing innocent little girls?"**_

"_**I don't kill kids."**_

"He's not asking any questions about the crime…not showing any emotion about the kids," McInnis pointed out. "He's involved."

"Definitely," I agreed. "He also had to quantify that he doesn't kill kids instead of just saying he's not a killer."

"_**So the kids…that was Derek Gilmore's job,"**_ Bernard said knowingly. "_**He's the one with the balls in the outfit, right?"**_

Then Bernard looked over at Lupo and flashed him a knowing grin as he added,_** "I guess that's what Christina thought, too. That Derek was a real man."**_

"And here we go," Alex murmured.

"Uh huh," I agreed, and even though I usually like being on the other side of the glass, I was still enjoying the show.

"_**Derek was a punk,"**_ Marco stated. "_**And I don't know if he killed little girls or not. You'll have to ask him. No, wait…that's right. You can't ask him. He's dead."**_

"_**Yes, he is. But you know what we don't have to ask him?" **_Bernard said as he made a show of opening a file folder that was on the table between them. "_**We don't have to ask if he was fucking Christina, because we've got full-color photographic evidence."**_

"Ouch," I heard Jennifer say. "If that doesn't fire him up, then I don't know what will."

"He's not looking," I remarked. "Watch how he's keeping his eyes on Bernard."

"Uh huh," Lauren answered. "He needs to trick him into looking."

"Good point, Detective. But how's he going to do that?" Ross asked.

"_**Wait a minute. Lupes, how'd this one get in here?"**_ Bernard questioned as he pulled one photo away from the others. "_**He doesn't need to see this."**_

"Just like that," Lauren said with pride as Marco's eyes dropped predictably to the photo in question.

Marco's anger was instant and blatantly obvious.

"_**Put that shit away," **_he bit out. _**"You're just trying to piss me off."**_

"_**And it's working, I see. What was all that crap you told us the other day about how you didn't care about the other men because you'd only met her six months ago?"**_

"_**It might've been a little longer."**_

"_**No kidding. Like at least a year," **_Lupo said.

"_**Does it matter? This was after I met her," **_he said through gritted teeth as he gestured towards the photos.

"_**Oh, really? You know that for a fact?"**_

"_**I…no,"**_ he stated. Then he slowly lifted his gaze to meet Bernard's and asked, _**"When was it?"**_

"_**Well, see that's the thing,"**_ Lupo said as he walked over to the table. "_**It wasn't just one time. It was probably…I don't know. Three or four times a day. And I mean, that's a lot. I'm a newlywed and **_**I'm **_**not logging in that much time between the sheets, you know what I'm saying? I guess there was something about Derek that really revved her engine." **_

"_**Yeah, he couldn't think for himself, so he'd do anything she asked."**_

"_**Oh, you mean like…"**_ Bernard said meaningfully. _**"In the bedroom?"**_

"_**And that made him better than you,"**_ Lupo added, moving around to stand next to Marco. Then he lowered his voice and said, "_**Are you a selfish lover, Marco? Did she have to start looking elsewhere just to get satisfied?"**_

"_**I satisfy her,"**_ he stated firmly. "_**And she only slept with him because…because…she wanted…"**_

"_**Marco, stop talking**_," the lawyer instructed.

"_**Sure, you can stop talking. And we'll walk out of here knowing what a bumbling, inept man you are in the bedroom."**_

"_**Wait, should we really say man?"**_ Lupo asked conversationally.

"_**True. Let's go with boy**_," Bernard agreed. "_**Which explains perfectly why Christina felt the need to get her plumbing fixed on such a regular basis. Because little Marco wasn't getting it done."**_

"Get her plumbing fixed?" Jennifer remarked.

"Don't knock it," I said. "It's working."

"Although it's not nearly as funny as Bobby's big dick jokes," Alex said with a smirk, and Jennifer started laughing.

"I will never forget that," she said shaking her head.

"Um…dick jokes?" Ross asked.

"Oh, it was…um…never mind," I said quickly.

"Bobby's right. It's working," Connie said, and I was grateful for her comment which shifted the focus back into the interrogation room because Ross was still looking at me curiously and Jennifer and Alex were still trying to stifle their amusement.

But in the other room, Marco was getting seriously pissed off.

"_**She was using them!"**_

"_**We know,"**_ Lupo agreed. "_**She was using them to scratch an itch, because they were hitting that spot that you can't quite reach."**_

"_**No!"**_ Marco shouted as he jumped up from his chair. "_**She slept with Demachi and Rama to get information! And Derek…she wanted him to be willing to die for her if it came down to it!"**_

"_**And it did**_," Bernard said. "_**You saw to that, right?"**_

"_**I had to!"**_

"_**Gentlemen, this interrogation is over!"**_ the lawyer said loudly, nearly drowning out Marco's confession.

Nearly, but not quite.

"_**You had to kill him…why? Because he was in love with Christina and that pissed you off?"**_

"_**I said, enough!"**_ the attorney shouted, but Marco put his head in his hands as he nodded his affirmation.

As Lupo and Bernard left the interrogation room, Mary and John came into the observation room.

"What'd I miss?" she asked, pretending as though when we left her in the conference room she hadn't been ready to kill her fiancé.

And I know…she's not really mad at him.

Earlier, while we were waiting for him to arrive, she'd tried to get Alex and me to tell her the details.

"_I'm making it worse in my mind,"_ she reasoned. _"Just tell me now so that I'll be over it by the time he gets here."_

"_No,"_ Alex said.

"_Alex…"_

"_He asked us not to."_

"_But you're going to talk about it with Ross," _she pointed out.

"_With John __**here.**__ That's different."_

"_So…he specifically said __**don't tell Mary**__ and you said okay_?" she asked incredulously.

"_Yes."_

"_But…"_

"_Look. He's a grown man. He'd already made up his mind what he wanted to do and he was going to do it with or without our blessing. I thought it made more sense to follow him and keep an eye on him."_

"_More sense than to just tell me?"_

"_You would've insisted that he not get involved."_

"_Exactly!"_

"_And then he would've done it anyway,"_ Alex told her. "_Mary, you can't keep him from wanting to help and protect you. He did it because he thought it was a way that his money and power might actually make your life a little easier. He promised O'Connor a marker."_

"_Great, so now he owes a mobster."_

"_O'Connor,"_ I reminded her.

"_I know. Okay. Fine, I'll wait. But I'm still going to kill him."_

"_No, you're not. Be mad if you want, and give him a piece of your mind, but he did it because he loves you."_

Mary sighed heavily and then glared at Alex before looking at me and saying, _"Doesn't it annoy you that she's so damn level-headed all the time?"_

"_I refuse to answer that on the grounds that I might incriminate myself_," I deadpanned.

"_Smart man,"_ she muttered, and then she led the way into the conference room where everyone else was waiting.

And now, after she learned most of the details, and after she had some time alone with John, she looks more at ease.

But I still glanced at John, looking him over for any obvious signs of physical trauma.

I didn't see any.

"I'd rather know what _we_ missed," Alex responded as she, too, carefully eyeballed John.

"Marco admitted to killing Derek out of jealousy and then his lawyer pulled the plug," Jennifer spoke up, I guess in an effort to rescue her partner from an inquisition.

"But they're crumbling," Daniels added. "It's falling apart all around them."

"Good," Mary said evenly. "So…Demachi?"

"Liz should be done any minute," Ross said, and after he said the words, the door came open, and it was Lupo and Bernard.

"Nice work in there, Detectives," Ross said.

"He only barely admitted it," Lupo deflected.

"Yeah, but we can use that with Christina. I wonder if she knows Marco was behind Derek's murder."

"Even if she did, you know she won't be happy that he admitted it to the police. He'll be going to jail. That'll have to put a damper on her grand scheme."

"She's going to be in prison, too," Mary said firmly. "Maybe they can figure out a way to head up a jailhouse gang, but that's the only way she's going to be running anything."

We all filtered out into the hallway, and that's where we ran into Liz. She followed us into the conference room, taking a seat at the table along with everyone else.

Ross looked at her and asked, "Demachi?"

"He's good to go," Liz informed us.

"And the bullet?"

"I got it," she stated as she held up an evidence bag. "It was pretty mangled after traveling through the car door, but not so much that I can't say for sure it's your run of the mill .45."

"Really?" Alex asked in surprise, and I'm sure she wishes she could take that comment back.

"What'd you expect, Detective?" Ross asked her. "Considering the only weapons fired were your .45's and…what was Demachi shooting?"

"A Glock nine," I answered.

"Right," Ross said with a wry grin. "So…good. A .45. That makes it easier on everyone."

Apparently, we hadn't fooled him at all with our earlier version.

"So…moving on," he continued. "Do we trust Demachi enough to wire him up and send him into that meeting with Rama tomorrow? Or do we just want to arrest Rama on the spot?"

"I don't trust Demachi at all," Mary said. "And I don't even think we need to interrogate him. I want all the players behind bars…no deals."

"That's what I was thinking, but you know…I'm just the annoying, level-headed one," Alex commented.

"But I meant that in the nicest possible way," Mary replied.

"Uh huh," Alex said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. "Okay, so…Bobby and I will book Demachi on attempted murder of two police officers and firing a weapon on a public street, and then we'll throw him in lock-up."

"Then meet back here and we'll set up a game plan for tomorrow, and then maybe we can all get out of here."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Alex agreed.

I followed her to the door and as we left the conference room, I whispered, "So does that mean a quickie in the elevator on the way out?"

"When you pled the fifth about me being annoying?"

"Not annoying. Level-headed."

"Annoyingly level-headed."

"It's a good thing," I insisted. "That means you'll be the one who remembers to push the stop button while my brain's all fogged over with lust-filled desire."

She chuckled and raised an eyebrow at me.

"You? Fogged over?"

"Like the Golden Gate on a cold San Francisco morning."

"Uh huh. You're really going to try to romance me?"

"Is it working?" I asked with a grin.

"We're _not_ doing a quickie in the elevator where we work," she said firmly.

"But…"

"I might not be opposed to the one at the Millennium," she admitted quietly.

"I'm in," I said quickly. "Is it time to go home yet?"

She laughed and handed me a booking form.

"First we have to process Demachi. Then coordinate our plans for tomorrow. And _then_ we'll see if I can stay level-headed enough to push that stop button."

TBC...


	99. Chapter 99

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>"Here it is. I couldn't bring myself to throw them out. They were too important to Casey."<p>

I reached out and took the proffered photo album from Cathleen's hand, and then sat down on the tiny couch, squeezing in next to Carolyn.

I took a moment...just to breathe.

And then I opened the book.

"It's you," Carolyn said softly. "Oh my God…Mike…"

Page after page of meticulously-placed photos…me, growing up before my eyes as I turned each page.

I never realized that so many photos of me as a child even existed.

Of course, in some there were bruises visible on my face and in others I had an arm or leg in a cast…stark reminders of the routine beatings I received, but still…in spite of that, it wasn't a bad trip through my past. Not bad at all.

"Let me get you a drink," Cathleen said quietly. "Something that'll help take the edge off."

"That's okay. I still have to drive back to the airport…"

"I'll drive us," Carolyn interrupted. "Have a drink."

So Cathleen left us alone for a moment, stepping into the galley to pour me a shot of…whatever. I'm certainly not going to be picky.

"If this doesn't say father's love I don't know what does," Carolyn commented as she reached out to lightly trace one of the pictures.

"There's no way my mother took these. I don't even remember us owning a camera."

"But look…you're not posing in any of them. Not one. These aren't pictures she had lying around that she decided to send to Casey. She took them with the sole purpose of sending them."

I turned another page as I struggled to absorb the meaning of the book, with its worn-out edges and slick pages turned smooth from use.

Elementary school gave way to junior high and then high school…there were fewer pictures the older I got, and after age seventeen…when I walked out of my mother's house for good, they stopped altogether.

"Here you go, my boy," Cathleen said, holding out a tall glass filled to the brim with amber liquid. "It's good for what ails you. Drink up."

"Casey gave this album to you?" Carolyn asked while I sipped on the potent liquor. If I had to guess, I'd say it was homemade, and the smell alone made my eyes water, but I still drank it.

"I started it for him," she said with a nod. "You would've been about eight when the two of us got married, and he already had a shoebox full of pictures. He was always taking them out, and talking about you…"

"I've got to ask," I said. "If he was so interested, why didn't he come see me?"

"Aye…that's the question right there, isn't it? And there's a story to go along with it, to be sure."

So she sat in the chair across from us and told the tale, laying on a thick brogue and telling it with the drama and fanfare of an Irish legend.

And to say I was surprised would be an understatement.

"So you can see why he couldn't risk it," she concluded. "Or at least, why he was afraid to risk it."

"Yes, I…yes."

"He wasn't a coward. I used to think so. That was part of what caused the end between me and him. I kept after him to make a stand and let the chips fall where they may, but he wouldn't. And I came to understand the why a little later. Because if he'd taken the risk and lost, then he wouldn't have been able to help you anymore. And then by the time you got older and he considered approaching you directly…well, she told him she'd already squealed to you, and that you hated him for it. And seeing as how you're a cop…well, he understood. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, or cause trouble for you."

"I never knew about him. Not until this past week. Before that, I didn't even consider that the man my mother married wasn't my father," I told her.

"'Tis a shame," she said with a nod. "I never trusted that woman…don't see why he ever took to the bed with her in the first place."

She sighed, shaking her head as she reached for her drink.

"But he was young. And he wanted to impress her. That's what got him into trouble, you know. Men and their egos, right, my dear?" she finished, giving Carolyn a smile.

"These pictures," I said. "Shannon just mailed them to him out of the goodness of her heart?"

"Lordy, no. Casey threatened to stop sending the money. And then of course, she threatened back and the two of them haggled over it for a while, and then she finally started sending them. And sometimes, she'd let him know what you had going on…you know, if it was something Casey could come and see. Of course, she'd charge him extra for information like that, but he always paid, even if he had to borrow from Ian to do it."

"You mean like baseball games?" I asked. "He came to watch?"

I'd been allowed to play one season, although I suffered a broken arm only a few weeks into it and I'd had to sit the bench the rest of the time, but still…it was an hour or two in the afternoon, away from home.

The next year, she wouldn't give me the money to sign up, and I'd been so desperate to play again, that I stole enough to cover the registration fee from the charity plate at church.

Yeah, I know. I'm probably going to hell for that.

But if it weren't for that, it'd be for something else.

Besides…my priest got pretty good payback on me the next year anyway, so…

"I know he saw at least one game," she answered. "A school play. He went to see you in the hospital once, too. I think you were about thirteen. He told me that when he saw you in the bed, beaten by that awful lad who mugged you, he was five seconds away from waking you up so that he could tell you exactly who he was to you. But then your mother showed up and gave him what-for and threatened to have him arrested for harassment…she was something else, your mother."

"You have no idea," I said quietly, remembering the incident.

For two days, I was laid up in that hospital.

And of course, I wasn't mugged, but rather beaten senseless yet again for some unknown slight.

"He was at your high school graduation. College, too. And the academy. He was very proud that you grew up to be like him, even if he and I were the only ones who knew it."

It was mind-boggling to think about him being there...I'd always thought I was alone during those momentous occasions because my mother certainly never showed up. I didn't want her there anyway.

But Casey had made a point to come.

It made me wish that I had old photos somewhere, ones I could go through and scour the background for a glimpse of him during key moments in my life, but of course, I don't.

Carolyn picked up my hand, gently lacing her fingers through mine as she asked Cathleen, "So you kept in touch with Casey, even after your divorce?"

"He was my first love," she said simply. "And it was true. But we were young, me more so than him even. I wanted him to be what I wanted instead of realizing that I loved him for who he already was. Our divorce was a mistake, one I've always regretted, and his passing last summer just about did me in."

We talked to Cathleen for a couple of hours, and then we both hugged her goodbye before heading back to the car.

The drive to the airport was made in silence, as I sat with the photo album on my lap, flipping through the pages once again.

I couldn't help but feel melancholy and a sense of loss over never knowing Casey. And a feeling of bitterness towards Shannon for her part in his absence.

"I wouldn't have cared," I said quietly once we were on board the plane. "I _don't_ care."

"I know."

"But I don't blame him. She was a manipulative, conniving woman."

"He was out of his league, trying to do battle with her."

"Like father, like son," I mused.

"No. She might have won a few battles with you, but you won the war. And actually, I'd say Casey did, too, because now you know about him, and you know that he loved you even though he never met you. Shannon didn't want you to have that, but now you do."

The plane ride home was uneventful.

Carolyn assured me that she was comfortable with the take-off process, joking about how her admission into the Mile High club must have been all she needed to get over her fear of flying, but still…I told her another story.

"A mystery?" she asked as I took hold of her hand.

"Yes, it is. It's about how the most beautiful, most perfect woman in the world manages to fall in love with a horribly flawed and unworthy man."

"I think maybe I need to tell the story, because you've got it all wrong. It's a romance about two people, who are perfect_ for each other,_ manage to find one another and they get married and live out their lives like a fairy tale."

We bickered about that for a moment, teasing until both of our moods were lifted, and in the end, I told another steamy story.

One I promised to recreate for her once we get back to the hotel.

By the time we landed at JFK, my disposition was considerably better.

I mean, I'd learned exactly what I wanted to know.

And Cathleen was nice…she loved Casey because he was a good man…my father was interested in my life and cared about what happened to me…honestly, it was probably about as good as I could hope for.

"Let's call Bobby and Alex and see if they feel like having a drink," I suggested as Carolyn drove us back towards the Millennium.

"They're going to ask questions," she warned.

"That's okay," I assured her. "I feel like talking. He might have thought I'd be ashamed of him, but I'm not. I only wish I could 've told him that while he was alive."

Thirty minutes later, Carolyn and I found a table in one of the Millennium's bars.

I plan to talk to John about my new information, too, but for some reason, I feel like I need to tell Bobby first, so for now, it'll just be the four of us.

"Didn't you spend the day in Florida?" Alex asked with a smile as she sat down across from us. "Why aren't you tan?"

"The day," I said pointedly. "Not the week."

"Which is too bad, really, because the weather was beautiful. And I kind of like the whole house boat thing," Carolyn added.

"So…you found her," Bobby stated. "And she was willing to talk?"

"She talked our ears off," I said.

"She was really nice once she got a good look at Mike and pegged him for Casey's boy."

"She recognized you?" Alex asked. "That's a good thing, right?"

"She gave us a photo album that Casey kept, full of pictures of Mike as a boy."

"I think I need to see that," Alex commented teasingly, and I love that the two of them are trying to make this as easy on me as possible.

I mean, they don't know that I didn't find out bad news.

And they don't care who my father is beyond the fact that _I_ care.

They're just my family, supporting me unconditionally, just like Carolyn.

"Okay, so she and Casey kept in touch. We got the whole story," I said after I got our waitress to bring us a round of beers.

"You look content," Alex remarked. "And much less stressed than before."

"I feel it. But this is…crazy. I mean, I wouldn't have guessed it in a million years."

"You're going to keep us in suspense?" Bobby asked. "Or are you just not ready to share yet?"

"Shannon threatened to expose the truth about Casey's father," I told them. "She blackmailed him with that knowledge, and back then…in Boston…it probably would've meant something. So the threat kept him at bay while she milked him for money which was supposedly used to take care of me."

"Casey's father?" Bobby asked in surprise. "Have we even looked that up? Who is it?"

"Well, we didn't look it up, no. I guess the assumption was that he was probably dead, but honestly, I never even thought about it until today."

"What is he, some kind of criminal? That's the only reason I can think of that blackmail might work against a cop," Alex said knowingly.

Not much gets by the two of them. I could probably stay quiet for five more minutes and they'd figure it out.

"Some kind of criminal, yes," I agreed, and then I felt Carolyn's hand reach for mine under the table, and for some reason, I felt like laughing.

Maybe because at the rate I'm going, I'm going to have a family bigger than the Waltons before year's end.

I paused as the waitress came back with our drinks, and I waited while everyone took a sip, and then I said, "Duncan O'Connor."

"As in…the original Irish mobster?" they said practically in unison, and then Bobby clarified, "The father of Ian and Shane O'Connor?"

"One and the same. Casey was his illegitimate son. Which means Shane O'Connor is my uncle."

TBC...

* * *

><p>AN: Tremendous thanks go out to guitar73girl.


	100. Chapter 100

**Jennifer POV**

* * *

><p>I checked my watch and debated sending Mike a text.<p>

It was three-thirty, and it felt like forever since I left his place about five hours ago, so I really want to see him, but at the same time, I don't want to come across as needy or clingy.

So should I go back to the safe house and see if he calls me?

That thought was extremely unappealing.

Maybe go for a run?

Option two sounded like maybe the best idea, considering the circumstances.

I mean, it had been a mentally exhausting afternoon, but I was feeling stoked because I think tomorrow's going to be the day we finally close this case.

Because today we broke it wide open.

Alex and Bobby's capture of Demachi.

John's unauthorized rendezvous with two of Demachi's men that gave us the lead on Rama's future whereabouts.

My discovery of the older murder of more of Brozi's heirs.

Lupo and Bernard's interrogation of Marco that definitively implicated him in Derek's death.

Everything was falling into place.

Now all we have to do is pick up Rama, and convince a new US Attorney that Christina needs to lose her immunity and face charges.

"_I think we need to work every Sunday,"_ Mary declared a few minutes ago. "_Because we kicked __**ass**__ today."_

"_Yeah, you work all the Sundays you want when you go back to your own office," _Alex replied.

"_Oh, come on,"_ Mary said with a grin. "_What else would you have done today?"_

Alex glanced over at Bobby and flashed him a smile, but she didn't answer Mary's question. Instead, she said,_ "So can we go, Ms. Boss Man?"_

"_Go," _Mary said, waving her off._ "And thank you. Everyone, really. This was a good day, and I think tomorrow's going to be even better."_

Everyone milled around the room for a minute, talking about post-work plans and gathering their belongings. I tried to visualize my temporary locker in the room down the hall, not sure if I still have running clothes in there or not.

Because I left my bag at Mike's house.

"_There's no sense in dragging it into work with you_," he'd said reasonably this morning as I got ready to leave his place.

"_What if you make other plans for tonight?"_

"_Why would I do that_?" he asked.

I looked him over and for the first time in my life, I had the urge to call in sick.

I mean, there he stood in the foyer, dressed only in his boxers and a white t-shirt. His hair was still damp from the shower, and his freshly-applied cologne was lingering in the air...

All I wanted to do was spend the day in bed with him.

And why wasn't he dressed, even though we'd gotten out of the shower at the same time, and I was dressed and ready to walk out the door?

Because he'd made me breakfast. Eggs, toast, coffee…all while still dressed in only his underwear.

"_Because I'm sure you have a life,_" I answered in response to his question. "_And just because we're…dating, doesn't mean you have to spend every waking moment with me."_

I'm not sure I like the word _dating_, and yet I also don't know what else to call it. But it feels so...restrictive.

Lovers would be a term that better suits my intentions...maybe next week that's what I'll start calling him.

My lover.

"_You're right. It doesn't mean I have to," _he agreed. "_But maybe I want to."_

"_How about I call you later?" _I suggested.

When he looked slightly disappointed, like maybe he thought I wouldn't call, or that maybe it was _me_ who didn't want to spend more time with _him_, I added, "_And I'll leave the bag here."_

And then I followed up my declaration with a goodbye kiss that hopefully erased all of his previous disappointment and uncertainties.

But my point is, even though my bag is at his place, I'm pretty sure that I still have stuff in the locker from a couple of days ago.

I got up from the table and headed for the door, but that was when Daniels spoke up.

"Hey, hang on a minute."

"What's up?" I asked him, and then I got a little suspicious when I realized that he was holding off on saying anything more until everyone else was gone.

After one minute, it was just the two of us in the conference room.

"I just wanted to see how things are going. I haven't seen much of you lately."

"We've been working like crazy people for a week straight. How much more of me do you want to see?"

"You know what I'm saying. Now that you're partnered with Mary, it's all business. We're missing out on our downtime conversations."

"Things are fine," I said.

"You haven't been back to the safe house in two nights," he stated and then he looked at me expectantly.

"No, I haven't."

"Is it that DA guy?"

"Are you my self-appointed chaperone?"

"I just want to make sure that you know what you're doing."

"I'm exploring the possibility of a relationship. It doesn't have to make CNN."

"You don't have to get defensive. I just don't want to see you get hurt again."

"And you think I will?"

"I don't know. You're not talking to me, and I worry about you, because you know, you're…well, you're pretty and you don't mind making the first move when it comes to men."

"Is that your nice way of calling me easy?"

"No," he said in frustration, although I don't care if he's frustrated because I'm starting to get pretty ticked myself. "But I'm thinking about Justin. Remember him? The ex-boyfriend with the wife and a mistress? He already had more than he could juggle, but after he saw you, and you made a play for him…you know, he couldn't say no to you."

"You think Mike can't say no to me? But that he would if he could? Thanks, Daniels. I appreciate that."

If he weren't my old partner, someone I've considered a friend since I transferred into the Witsec department, I probably would've slapped him.

But because of our history, I refrained.

Barely.

"That's not what I'm saying. I don't even know the guy. I'm saying I'd like to _get_ to know the guy."

"So you can quiz him on whether he's only interested in sex? No, thank you," I said, angrily stacking up the papers that were still on the conference room table.

Underneath the papers was a cell phone, which someone must have left behind. It started ringing as soon as I picked it up.

The caller ID showed Mike Cutter.

_And whose phone is this?_

"Hey, sorry if I'm interrupting, but I think I left my cell phone in here."

I looked up to see Lauren coming back into the room.

Interesting.

She paused as she took in Daniels, looking stressed and uncomfortable, and then me, standing there holding what is apparently her phone.

"Good timing. You've got a call," I said as I held out the still-ringing phone to her.

"Oh. Thanks."

She took it from me, and then answered it as she went back into the hall.

"We're not discussing my personal life," I said crossly to Daniels. "And I think it's pretty shitty of you to suggest that it couldn't possibly be anything serious."

"That's not what I'm saying," he said again. "Dunn...Jennifer, listen. I just...I can tell by looking at you that you're falling for this guy, and it's been what, a week? And a week ago he was dating another marshal, remember?"

"I remember," I said tersely. "But he wasn't dating her. They went out on a few dates."

"Okay, so how do you know this is anything different for him? All I'm saying is that men are dogs. You know, you stick a drink in a guy's hand, and he's not going to give it back, even if it's not his brand."

"Not his brand," I repeated. "That's great, Daniels. I guess you think it's better for me to get hurt by you than by him, is that it? Because if you're supposed to be my friend, then I really think I need some new friends."

I headed for the door, and he called out after me, but I left anyway, slamming the door closed behind me.

And that's when I heard Lauren. She was standing a little ways down the hall, still talking on the phone.

"You think we can get away with that?" she asked softly. "It sounds…I don't know. Risky."

My heart, already pounding from the confrontation with Daniels, started thumping even harder.

Is she still talking to Mike?

"Yes, of course I trust you," she said, and then she glanced up and saw me staring at her. "I need to go. I'll call you later and we can work out the details, okay?"

She hung up and tucked her phone in her pocket and then looked at me, and I can't be sure, but to me, she maybe looks a little guilty.

_This is just fucking great. _

"How's it going?" she asked me somewhat nervously.

"I've had better days," I admitted.

"I'm sorry," she said as she moved closer to me, and her expression was one of compassion. "You want to talk about it? Maybe we can go get a drink or something…"

"I'm sure you have plans."

"B won't mind," she insisted.

"Actually, I was going to go for a run, so…"

"Even better. I've been trying to get in a few miles each day, but B won't run with me, so sometimes I have trouble finding the time."

Which is how I found myself pounding the pavement with Lauren.

It took me about five minutes to get over my resentment of her horning in on my regimen, and five more for me to realize how crazy I was to consider that there was anything going on between her and Mike.

Because Mary was right.

She's really, really nice.

For the better part of the run, we went back and forth doing a personal history Q & A, and then around mile three, we fell silent for a bit.

It seemed the easy stuff was behind us, and now it was time to decide whether to keep it superficial or dig a little deeper.

"At the risk of being nosy, I have to ask…is something going on with you and Daniels?" she asked me_. Dig deeper it is._ "I mean, when I came in the room, you could cut the air with a knife."

"Not something like what you think. He's just…well, he tries to act like my big brother and he's not happy about the fact that I'm dating someone without getting his approval first."

"Right," she said with a grin. "Mike Cutter. How's that going?"

"I thought it was going really well, but now I'm not so sure. Daniels suggested that I might not be his brand of liquor."

"His what?" she asked on a laugh, so then I explained his analogy, and even though his remark really pissed me off at the time, I _do_ understand that he's trying to look out for me.

"So yeah," I concluded. "Now he has me doubting myself. I mean, does Mike like me because I'm making myself available to him, or would he have pursued me even if I hadn't shown an interest? I don't know."

"Well, I don't know what his brand is, but I'd say you're it," she said confidently. "His whole face changed when he talked about you."

"He talked about me with you?" I asked, curious about what he might have said. Because a man only in it for what he can get...he wouldn't talk about it with a woman, would he?

And not only that, but nothing I've seen from him so far points in the canine direction. Just the opposite, actually.

"Yeah, we met for coffee earlier."

"Oh. So you two are…close?"

"He's working a case for me. And no, I wouldn't have considered us close at all, but I've recently gotten to know him a little better, and I think he's a really nice guy. And he definitely likes you."

"He told you that?"

"He told me about your date last night. And that you stayed the night."

I couldn't decide how to feel about that. I went from being jealous of her, to not, to being jealous again.

"He was making a point," she added, obviously sensing my unease. "See, I was having an emotional crisis…my father's in town, and he managed to make an already bad situation even worse, and…wow, I'm not making much sense, am I?"

"It's fine," I said dismissively.

"No, see…a crime was committed against me, years ago, and we just recently established who did it, and he's already in prison for something else, but Mike's working on getting him to plead guilty to what he did to me, and…it's kind of a weird situation."

"Oh. I'm…really sorry for pushing. I'm just…God, I don't know what my problem is."

"Jennifer, it's fine. You know, it gets easier every time I talk about it. But like I said, my dad was a real jerk about it, and I was upset about it when I met with Mike, so he was just trying to make me feel better. And don't worry. He didn't give me any details about your relationship or anything."

_He was trying to comfort her by opening up_, I mused. About _me_.

Daniels doesn't know what the hell he's talking about.

"So is that what he called it? A relationship?" I asked, fishing for more details, something that might offer proof that would put my insecure ponderings to rest.

And I don't know when I got so damn unsure of myself…I could blame Daniels, but it was there, even before him. Although he certainly didn't help.

But now, talking to Lauren…she's helping.

"He said that it's going well, and something about that being a nice change for him," she answered as we neared 1PP, having completed a four-mile loop. Then she added, "You're worrying too much."

"Mary said it's sexual frustration," I admitted on a laugh. "And maybe it is because I don't usually deny myself when it comes to sex and I've never been this insecure, so it seems those two things are going hand in hand."

"Are you going out with him tonight?"

"I think so, but I haven't talked to him this afternoon. I'm not sure what he's been doing all day."

"He's at the office," she told me. "Working on my case."

"Oh. Good to know. Maybe I'll stop by and see him."

"You should definitely do that," she agreed. "And Bernard and I are going over to Steve-O's later…if you find yourself looking for something to do, you should drop in and have a drink with us."

"We might do that. Thanks."

"Good," she answered with a smile. She started up the steps, but I paused at the bottom. "You're not coming in?"

"No, I think I'm going to head on over to the DA's office. I've got clothes at Mike's place, so I can clean up over there."

"Okay, well…thanks for letting me tag along. It's more fun to run with company."

"We'll do it again."

Five minutes later, I entered the DA's office and went upstairs to Mike's office.

The outer area was mostly empty, since it's Sunday, and no one even bothered to ask what I was doing in the building. I went straight to his open door, and I started to knock on the door frame, but then I held off, choosing instead to watch him for a moment, undetected.

He was standing with his back to me, staring at a dry erase board which contained a lot of scribbles and arrows. The attorney version of a basketball play, I guess.

He was dressed in a suit, although he'd ditched the jacket. Black slacks that fit him nicely…blue dress shirt…

There was no denying that feeling in the pit of my stomach.

There's something about him that just does it for me.

But despite Lauren's encouragement, I also couldn't dismiss Daniels' words.

Have I been so forward that he's just going along for the ride?

That might make sense if I were actually sleeping with him, but would he wait me out if he wasn't truly interested?

_Find your balls, Austin_, I thought, and then I almost laughed at how my inner voice sounded like Mary, complete with the use of the inaccurate nickname.

Gathering my confidence, I walked silently across the room, circling around the desk to where Mike continued to stand with his back to me.

I was almost directly behind him when he suddenly turned around, swinging a baseball bat as he said, "I've got you, you slimy bastard."

And I'll admit it.

The sound that escaped from me as I ducked out of the way of his impromptu swing sounded very girly.

And I stumbled over my own two feet in my effort to avoid getting hit, and I managed to end up on my ass.

"Jenn!" he said as he quickly tossed the bat onto his desk and then knelt down next to me. "I'm sorry, I had no idea you were behind me!"

"I hope not," I replied, unable to keep from laughing. "Because I'd have to be offended if you took a swing at me on purpose."

"Are you okay?" he asked, not looking amused at all.

"I'm fine," I answered, and then because he was so close, I reached for his tie with the intent of using it to bring him close enough to kiss.

But damn Daniels…

_Stick a drink in a man's hand…_

So I held off.

Instead, I just stayed there, sitting on the floor and holding onto his tie while he crouched next to me.

"Are you sure?" he asked, and his voice was lower and more intimate and I could feel the deluge of butterflies return, those ones that like to hang around whenever I'm near Mike.

"I think my pride is more bruised than my ass," I assured him. "I'm supposed to be the badass cop. Don't tell my partner that I got bested by a lawyer, okay?"

"Your secret's safe with me," he said, finally smiling as he reached down and took hold of my hand, the one that had been clutching his tie.

Then he leaned in, closing the distance between us until his lips gently met mine.

And oh, it was so _so_ nice.

"Mike, did you consider…Mike?"

It was Jack McCoy.

And here we were, on the floor behind Mike's desk.

As innocent as it had begun, it still looked bad, and I found my face flushing, even though I rarely ever get embarrassed about anything.

But Mike quickly got to his feet, keeping hold of my hand so that he could pull me up with him.

"I nearly took her head off with my bat," he explained, letting go of me once I was on my feet and picking up his baseball bat.

"I warned you about swinging that thing in your office," Jack said.

"Duly noted," he replied. "So…did I consider…"

"Right. Uh…did you consider having the police expand their search to include other surrounding states? Even without DNA, the MO is fairly straight-forward, and you might find other cases."

"I'll talk to Detective Benson about it," Mike said with a nod.

"Okay. Good. Now get out of here and enjoy what's left of your weekend," Jack said firmly. Then he gave me a nod and said, "Inspector, nice to see you again. You might want to think about wearing a helmet the next time you visit Mike."

"Not a bad idea," I agreed with a smile, relieved that it seemed we were off the hook.

Jack ducked his head briefly and then looked back up to give me a half-smile and a wink and then he was gone.

Once we were alone again, Mike looked at me with an impish grin on his face.

"You're determined to get me into trouble, aren't you?"

"Me? I didn't…"

"I know," he interrupted. "I'm kidding. So to what do I owe the pleasure? Are you done working already?"

"Uh huh. But no rush. You finish up whatever you need to do. Something about getting the slimy bastard?" I reminded him as I plucked the bat from his hands.

"I'm at a good stopping point," he said on a laugh. "I'm glad you came by…I guess you decided you want to do something with me tonight?"

And it didn't escape my notice that he seemed a little apprehensive. As though maybe he thought I was here for some other purpose.

_Maybe that goodbye kiss this morning didn't erase **all** of his uncertainies..._

"I never said I didn't want to get together tonight," I pointed out. And then I realized how presumptuous that sounded, and I thought about what Daniels said about me being forward, so I added, "But only if you want to. There's no pressure. I mean, I stopped by to say hi, but that doesn't mean you have to…um you know, drink bourbon tonight. You might…I don't know…feel like having a beer instead."

He looked at me curiously while I rambled ineloquently and when I finished he said, "Why do I get the feeling you're not talking about alcohol?"

I sighed heavily and debated how to respond to his question, but really, there was only one way.

"If I hadn't made the first move, that night in the alley…would we still be here?" I asked.

"I'd like to think so. But I don't know," he answered honestly. "I'm not sure I would've had the nerve to do it. At least not so soon."

"But you wanted to," I pushed, needing to know for sure.

"Oh, I wanted to," he said decisively.

He leaned back against the front edge of his desk and then opened his arms to me. I walked over in front of him, still holding the bat in one hand, but settling my other hand on his chest as he put his hands on my waist.

"What's going on?" he asked softly.

"My old partner...he mentioned something about you maybe having a specific brand, and that I might not be it. Apparently I'm pretty and forward and that makes men unable to say no, even when they want to," I said wryly, rolling my eyes at the annoying descriptive.

"Well, that's not true at all," he replied. "First off, according to my mother _no_ was the first word I ever said, and I can assure you that I'm well versed in articulating that response. And secondly, I wouldn't say you're forward. Honest is much more accurate. And third…"

He trailed off as he tugged me towards him, moving his hands around to my back.

"You're so much more than just pretty," he continued. "I think your old partner needs to have his eyes examined."

And then he picked up where we'd left off when Jack interrupted us. A nice, slow, easy kiss that I could feel in my toes.

He continued to kiss me in a devastating manner for several long minutes, and then he finally eased back slightly and said, "Now. I don't care if I'm drinking bourbon, or beer, or nothing at all as long as I'm with you, okay?"

And maybe this right here is why I'm having so much trouble. The man is just too sweet to be for real. And yet…I think he is, because the way he looks at me…I'm talking serious, serious butterflies.

"Okay," I said with a nod.

"Good. I'm glad we got that cleared up. So…I'm all yours," he said. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well, Lauren invited us to stop by Steve-O's later, but for now…I've really got a lot of energy to burn."

"That sounds like an idea I can get behind," he replied suggestively.

"Not _that_," I said, although damn I'd really like it to be that.

"I'm sorry, but if you're thinking about running...well, I don't run unless someone's chasing me."

I smirked at him and looked down at the bat in my hands. It wasn't new…the handle felt smooth, probably from the number of times he's held it in his hands. He's definitely comfortable holding it, and it gave me an idea.

"I already got in my run. But I do have something else in mind. Do you have clothes here that you can change into?"

He did.

Black gym shorts that sat loosely on his hips and another college t-shirt, this one touting Hudson University. And of course, I've already noticed that he's got really nice, well-defined calf muscles, but I found myself looking at them again as he came out of the bathroom and started turning off lights and powering down his computer.

_Six more days_, I reminded myself.

And I'm hoping I can talk him into another shared shower between now and then.

We left his office, and thirty minutes later, he opened the chain-link gate and then stood back so that I could walk into the batting cage ahead of him.

"I'm surprised you're willing to be locked up in a cage with me and a bat after what happened earlier."

"I deserved it. I should've knocked."

"How's your butt?"

"It's fine. But maybe you can check for bruising later," I teased.

"Oh, I intend to," he responded, and I don't know, but it doesn't sound like he's kidding.

I hope not.

"So do you want to go first? I can get out of the way and let you dazzle me with your impressive display of manliness."

"Uh uh. Come here."

He stood next to the plate so I went and stood in front of him, and he turned me around, backing me up until I was in the batter's box, too, and he put his arms around me so that we could both hold onto the bat.

"You have to grip it just right," he said, his voice low and his lips right next to my ear.

I could feel him pressed up against my backside, and it was all I could do to keep from pushing back into him.

And yeah, okay...I did a little.

"Wrap your fingers around it," he continued, his voice still a deep, gravelly pitch. "Until it feels right in your hands."

"Like this?"

"Uh huh. Choke up a little."

"Um…choke up?"

"Slide your hands further up the bat," he explained. "Like this."

He put his hands next to mine and nudged them a few inches.

"Good. Spread your feet apart a little more and bend your knees. Now, you want to think _hips before hands_."

"Are you sure? That sounds backwards."

"Open up your hips," he said, chuckling lightly as he put his hands on my hips to encourage the motion. "And then follow with your hands."

We swung a few times, some with his hands on my hips, and some with them on the bat, and then he asked, "Are you ready to try a pitch?"

I would've never guessed it, but there's a powerful feeling involved with hitting a baseball.

After a few swings, I started focusing more on doing it right than on the feel of him behind me.

"You're a natural," he said when my pitches were up.

"I've got a good teacher," I replied with a smile, pleased with his compliment. And like I said, smacking the ball felt good and I'm not sure, but I think maybe it helped ease some of my sexual frustration. "Your turn."

So then I watched while he hit a couple dozen balls, and yeah, so maybe my sexual frustration hasn't disappeared, because the sight of him crushing the little ball while the muscles in his arms and legs flexed repeatedly and then that confident smile he flashed at me while the machine was reloading…_six more days_, I reminded myself again.

_Six days and then we're going to lock ourselves in his apartment and not come up for air the entire day._

We spent another hour at the batting cage, and then we decided to call it quits.

I reached for the gate to let us out of the cage, and he put his hand on the fence to keep me from opening it.

"This was a great idea," he said, his lips once again near my ear, like they were when he was teaching me to swing. Only this time, he kissed me there, sending a shiver through me. "Maybe we can come back again some time."

"Any time you want, as long as you give me the hands-on refresher course."

"You don't need an excuse to get my hands on you," he replied as he continued to kiss along my ear and the side of my neck and then he slid one hand around my waist, pulling me back against him.

He slipped his hand beneath my shirt, running along the waistband of my shorts, and I couldn't stop the sigh that escaped at the skin-on-skin contact.

"So where to next?" he asked in a husky voice, and oh, how I wanted to say _your place. _

But my resolve was crumbling quickly and I don't trust myself to be alone with him. Not in private, I mean.

"Um…" I began, and I it's amazing how long it took me to focus enough to actually form words. "We should…um…go to Steve-O's."

"You're probably right," he agreed reluctantly, and then I turned in his arms so that I could kiss him on the lips, and we stood there like that, with my back up against the fence and him right up against me, kissing until all rational thought was gone.

We finally left the cage after some guy who was waiting to hit started yelling out obscenities at us, telling us _just go home and fuck already and quit wasting cage space!_

And yeah, that's exactly what I'd like to do, but instead, we went to Steve-O's.

I was surprised to see that it was only Lauren and Bernard. For some reason, I'd expected there to be a whole group, and I almost changed my mind, not wanting to interrupt their date, but then she saw us and waved us over to their table.

"I wasn't sure if you guys were coming," she said, moving over to sit next to Bernard, leaving the other half of the booth open for us.

"Sure, why not?" Mike said. "Although I'm surprised you don't have plans with your father."

"I put him off until tomorrow," she answered, after sharing a significant look with Bernard. He put his arm around her and she settled against him before looking at me and saying, "And please tell me you didn't go running again because my legs are still aching from the four miles we did."

Because while she'd obviously showered since I saw her last, I clearly had _not_. We didn't go back to Mike's place before coming here because I think we were both afraid that our willpower was flagging. I'm not sure what we'll do later, after Steve-O's, but for now, we're both still dressed in shorts and t-shirts and tennis shoes.

And our casualness doesn't bother me at all. Not with the way that Mike's leg was pressed against mine, and how he'd immediately settled his hand on my bare thigh.

It just seems so natural and comfortable, like we belong together.

_And oh my God, I sound like a teenager._

"We went to a batting cage," I clarified. "Mike taught me how to hit."

Mike started to add something, but then his phone started ringing, and when he looked at it, he glanced back up at Lauren and Bernard and said, "It's Schmenke."

"He can wait," Lauren said firmly.

"Are you sure? It might be…"

"It's Sunday night, and we're on a double date. Fuck him and his dickhead client. He can call you during regular business hours."

Mike nodded and put his phone back, but I found myself staring at her, surprised by the language that had come out of her mouth.

Not that I don't use it, because I do, but she just looks so young and innocent.

Lauren waved the waitress over to the table, and then she noticed me staring at her, and she said, "Oh. Sorry."

"It's fine," I promised. And then in an effort to lighten the mood, I smiled and teased, "I just didn't know you knew words like that. How old are you, anyway?"

"Oh my God," she said dramatically. "I'm sure I'm older than you."

"I don't know about that."

"Can I get you something?" the waitress asked, having approached our table.

Lauren and Bernard each ordered, and then I asked for a pint of Sam Adams, and when it was Mike's turn, he looked at me hesitantly.

"I have no idea what to order."

"You mean you don't have a specific brand?" I asked, liking that he was able to joke about it, and liking even more that I wasn't letting Daniels' words bother me anymore.

"Not really. I guess I just know it when I see it."

"Sir, I can bring you a sampler of what we have on tap," the waitress offered, obviously not catching on to our underlying conversation.

"And you've seen it?" I asked, ignoring her altogether.

He tightened his grip on my leg and then moved it slightly higher until I was revisited by those damn annoying and exciting butterflies.

"I'm looking at it right now."

TBC...

* * *

><p>AN: Despite it being repetitive, I feel the need to say it again. Thank you, guitar73girl!


	101. Chapter 101

**Connie POV**

* * *

><p>"So…you're saying…what?"<p>

Mulder's words mirrored my thoughts exactly, and I had to smile.

I was in the kitchen making dinner while shamelessly eavesdropping on Lupo's conversation with Mulder, and so far, my husband wasn't making much sense.

"You know, you want to…um…make sure that…um…well…"

I was going to have to rescue him soon.

And I don't know why he's having so much trouble.

Earlier at 1PP, he'd given a short, succinct pep talk to Mulder, since the case had blown open and he couldn't take the time for an in-depth life lesson.

"_Don't give her any money. Don't give her too much personal information. Don't go up to her hotel room. Don't offer to take her back to your place. And don't give her any money."_

"_You said that."_

"_I know, but I really mean it."_

"_Got it. Can I at least pick up the check? I mean, I'm supposed to do that, right?"_

"_Sure,"_ Lupo agreed, finally relaxing a little. "_And have fun. Just not too much fun. Come over tonight, and we'll have dinner and talk some more."_

So now Mulder was hanging out in our living room, supposedly for a talk, but it was more like an exercise in _how many words can Lupo say without actually saying anything at all. _

"Dude, I know the ins and outs, right?" Mulder told him, and I fought with myself not to laugh. "It's the rest of it that I don't get. I mean, how will I know when it's on the table? And why isn't it okay to go through with it, even if it doesn't mean anything, as long as both people _know_ it doesn't mean anything?"

"It _is_ okay sometimes."

"But not with slutty blondes in bars. So you never scored a meaningless one-nighter with a hot floozy? I mean, before the ten."

I stopped stirring the rice so that I could better hear Lupo's response.

"Um…well…maybe once or twice. But if you're looking for a relationship, which you said you are, those aren't the kind of women you want."

"But maybe for practice."

"You don't need practice. There's no right or wrong way, and every woman is different."

"Oh," Mulder said, and I could tell that he was more confused than ever. "So…you mean what might be good for one might not be for another?"

"Exactly."

"Like what?"

"What, like what?"

"I mean give me an example because I kind of thought there was only one way to do it."

I dropped the spoon and put my hand over my mouth, closing my eyes as I pictured Lupo's expression.

Mortification.

And like I said, I don't get why he won't just say it.

He didn't have any problem talking about sex while in the interrogation room with Marco this afternoon.

"_You compared the suspect's sex life to ours? While in front of our colleagues?"_ I asked him when we were on our way home.

"_We make up stuff all the time. No one gave it a second thought, I'm sure."_

_"Well…I did."_

_"And you're mad?"_ he asked me in concern.

"_No, but I think we need to step up our game if you're going to be telling everyone about it."_

He barked out a laugh and looked over at me and said, "_Honey, we're going at it two or three times a day already. I'm not sure I'm physically capable of any more than that!"_

_"Challenge accepted,_" I told him smugly.

"_It wasn't a challenge,"_ he replied, still laughing. "_I'm saying, I'm old."_

_"No, you're saying I'm not enticing enough. I'll work on it."_

And I was only teasing him of course, but as I said the words, I reached over and put my hand on his thigh and then purposefully moved it slowly upwards until I heard him suck in a harsh breath.

_"See? You're not old_," I told him as I gripped him through the fabric of his pants. "_You just need proper motivation, that's all."_

_"You're going to be the death of me."_

Although he didn't seem to be complaining, not then and not after we got home when I continued my assault on him, only without his pants getting in the way.

"I think I need a beer," I heard Lupo say. "I'll be right back. You want one?"

"Yeah, sweet."

A minute later, Lupo came into the kitchen with his eyes wide, and he was mouthing _oh my God… _

"You're doing fine," I encouraged.

I opened the refrigerator and pulled out three bottles of beer, handing two of them to him and keeping one for myself.

"And you're listening. How much trouble am I in?"

"For your one-nighters with hot floozies? None. I've been known to hook-up with a man-whore from time to time."

He nearly spit out his beer at my remark, but I just smiled at him and turned around to stir the rice.

"Man-whore?" he said, coming up behind me and pressing his body against mine.

"I'm kidding," I said as I leaned back into him. "But you know, if you don't start using real words in your sex talk, you're never going to finish before dinner. Tell the kid what he wants to know."

"Which is what?"

"Why one-night stands are only good sometimes. How women like to be romanced. How to know when to move from outside of the front door to the bedroom."

"You're assuming I know the answers. You seduced me, remember?"

"I jumped you," I corrected. "Because you didn't have anyone like _you_ to tell you what to look for."

"You'd just opened your door. What was I looking for?" he asked teasingly.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact that in the weeks leading up to our date I kept undressing you with my eyes…staring at your package…finding reasons to stop by the precinct."

"My package?" he repeated in amusement as he leaned down to kiss my neck.

"It's a very nice package. Maybe you can show me again later."

"You're insatiable."

"You love it."

"Yes, I do."

"Good. Then get back out there. I'll save you if you start drowning again."

I turned around and kissed him hard and then sent him on his way.

"Okay, so…where were we?" he asked Mulder.

"Dude, I have no idea, you know what I'm saying?"

"Let's do it like this. You ask and I'll answer."

I tried to tune them out as I finished getting dinner ready, but I can't help my curiosity. And I meant what I said to Lupo.

I'll go in and get involved if that's what's needed.

"How old were you when you…you know…first started hooking up?"

"Um…fifteen."

"Dude, shit, I knew it…I'm like a Sega in an XBOX world, right? What's my malfunction? Why didn't the alarm start sounding before now?"

"Hey, it's not a competition, okay? It doesn't matter when. It's like parents freaking out over when their kid starts walking. By the time they hit kindergarten, they're all walking just the same, so nine months…twelve…sixteen…it's irrelevant."

"But she's gonna _know_."

"Maybe. But that doesn't have to be a bad thing. You know, I wouldn't mind erasing some of my sexual past."

"Yeah, but I mean…"

He stopped talking for a second, and then dropped his voice, and I'll admit it. I moved closer to the doorway so that I could listen.

"What if it's over too fast? I mean, that's what happens, right? That's the standing joke. Faster than a speeding bullet."

"Oh. Um…well, it's not just about the actual…um…ins and outs."

"Shit, McClane, I don't know…this sounds like a lot of pressure."

"No one's saying you have to do anything."

"I know. But I _want_ to. I just want to make sure that after I do, she'll want to do it _again_, you know what I'm saying?"

"It's not that hard. When you're with someone you like, then it's about wanting her to feel as good as you do. So you just…take your time getting to the main event, so that by the time you get there, she's just as close as you are, you know what I mean?"

"Um…yeah," he said hesitantly.

"And it doesn't all have to be over when _you're_ done…you can do…other things, and you know…at your age, you'll probably get a second chance faster than you might expect."

"Seriously?"

"Besides, she's not going to have a stopwatch on you, and if she does…well, then she's not for you."

The oven timer went off, and it took me a few minutes to pull the chicken from the oven so that it could cool for a moment on the rack, and when I got back to the doorway, they were laughing.

"I know, right?" Mulder was saying. "You'd think…you know, _some_thing. But no. And when she did that…holy shit, McClane…my dot bat was wiggin', right? I'm talking major wire jam. How do you do it? I mean, how can you _think_ straight with the ten around, because my bagbiter was flakin' on go_odbye, _you know what I'm saying?"

"How can I think straight? I can't," Lupo answered, and his simple response struck a chord in my heart.

"Dude, seriously?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, if we're working, then obviously I have to get over it, but other times…you know, sometimes I just look at her and…I don't know. I guess I still have a hard time believing that she's mine."

"But how'd you know you wanted her?" Mulder asked. "I mean, obviously you'd be blind not to _want_ her, but…I mean, the forever kind of want."

"That's when you get into the difference between floozies at the bar and women you want to pursue a relationship with. The difference between love and sex. You can have either without the other, but it's so much better when you have both."

"But why? It's the same physical experience, right?"

"Not really, no. It's…well, I mean maybe…but it's different because…um…okay, think about when you hack something, using your cell phone," he said at last.

"Okay…"

"You can do it, and it gets the job done, but…"

"It's kind of frustrating," Mulder finished. "A laptop's much better."

"Right," Lupo said, gaining confidence. "Because a laptop has more of what you need. You can hide your hack better, and you can reroute the IP, and…I don't know what else, but it's more than you can do on a cell, even though the specific end result might be the same."

There was silence and I could just imagine that Mulder was trying to figure out how hacking relates to sex, so I finally went into the living room.

"And then imagine hacking on _your_ laptop, not a borrowed one," I told him. "It's set up the way you like it, it responds when you strike the keys…the whole experience is better because it's as if you and your laptop are working together for the same goal rather than only using a device to get what you need."

"Bingo, ten, I'm with you!" he said enthusiastically after a moment of contemplation. "Smokin' analogy, right? Strike the keys? Is that a euphemism for…"

"I was just trying to put it into your language," I interrupted. "It wasn't a euphemism."

"Well, it could be," Lupo said with a grin.

"Dinner's ready," I said to them. "No more sex talk until after we eat."

As we moved into the kitchen and Lupo helped me take the food to the table, I noticed Mulder watching us, and how we interacted, as if he were taking notes.

_He's too sweet_, I found myself thinking.

Some woman is going to break his heart.

_And then I'm going have to break her face_, I added.

"So tell me about your date with Cecilia," I encouraged, shoving aside my visions of violence, because I don't think I'll need it just yet.

I'd texted Liz about Cecilia earlier, figuring at the very least that we could trust Liz's gut instinct about the woman.

_**She's very smart and honest. I didn't sense anything off about her. She mentioned an interest in Mulder – I think they'll get along just fine.**_

Honesty will be a good thing for Mulder. The last thing he needs is a woman who's interested in playing games.

Not that I think his very first date will turn into any kind of long-term relationship, but at least he might get through it without getting hurt.

"I'm not sure it was a date," he said as he scooped food onto his plate.

"She invited you to meet her at a hotel bar. It was a date," I told him.

"It was convenience, right? I mean, she was checking out, getting ready to go back to Boston."

"She kissed you goodbye," Lupo added pointedly, flashing me a quick smile. "That makes it a date."

"See, dude…I'm not getting the classifications, right? What's the BFD about calling it a date? Does that mean something else that I'm supposed to know?"

"That depends on what was said. It might mean that she's hoping you don't date someone else while you're waiting to see her again. Did she mention coming back to the city?"

"Yeah," he said with a grin. "And she said that maybe I can visit her next weekend. She said her place is this sweet studio and…"

"Wait, so she kissed you goodbye _and_ she wants you to go to Boston? And stay at her _apartment_?"

"Um…yeah,"

I shared a look with Lupo and then turned to Mulder again and said, "Well, there you go. She wants to sleep with you."

"Seriously?"

"At the very least, she wants to fool around, but I'm telling you…I've never once invited a man to spend the night without there being sex involved."

"And how many men have you invited to spend the night?" Lupo asked me.

"Just you, sweetheart," I replied with a smile.

"Uh huh…but yeah, Mulder. She's right. She asked you for the date…she kissed you…she invited you to stay with her…it sounds like now you just have to decide if you're interested."

"Is that a trick question?"

I laughed at his confusion, and then said, "You have to think it through. This isn't a no-name girl in a bar. This is someone who you'll probably see around from time to time, assuming she and Liz try to maintain contact."

I had to go through that dilemma myself.

Because as badly as I wanted Lupo, I was also afraid of making a move because once you do and it's _out there_, there's no going back.

And how embarrassing would it have been for me, to have to continue working cases with him, if I'd jumped him and he'd responded with a resounding_ thanks but no thanks_?

Abject humiliation.

But in the end, I had to go with my gut, which was clamoring that he was worth the risk.

Although I'm not sure if Mulder has that kind of natural instinct. Or if he does, maybe he's been ignoring it for so long that he doesn't know what to listen for.

"And…" I continued, not wanting to scare him away from the prospect of giving Cecilia a chance. "That doesn't mean you have to be in love with her. But it does mean that you need to be upfront about how you feel and what you're looking for. In fact, that's a good idea no matter who it is, but definitely when it's someone you'll likely see again."

"But…I _want_ to see her again. I mean, not just for that, but because…well, she's…really cool. And she thinks like me. Sort of. I mean, she writes code for a living, so how awesome is that? And even though we only talked for a couple of hours, it feels like I've known her a lot longer, you know what I'm saying?"

"Yes, I do," I agreed.

_Maybe he does have that natural instinct after all,_ I thought. He feels a connection with her that's made him decide she's worth the risk of putting himself out there.

"She's gonna Skype me later," he told us. "After she gets home."

He trailed off and checked his watch and then said, "Shit, I'd better get jammin' on the Mac if I'm going to get back in time for her call."

"You don't have to work from here," Lupo told him.

"Right. You can go home," I added. "That way you can use your own laptop."

Mulder grinned broadly at me, nodding as he said, "I'm feeling you, ten. Because it's better to use my laptop than to hack from a cell or a gimme, right?"

Twenty minutes later, we closed the door on Mulder, who was heading back to his new apartment for his first night alone. Although I guess he won't be completely alone, since Cecilia's going to Skype him.

"Maybe I should've talked about phone sex," Lupo said as he followed me into the living room. "Or video-chat sex. What if she starts talking dirty to him and he's totally clueless?"

"He'll figure it out," I told him. I sat down on the couch and then tugged on his hand, getting him to sit down next to me. "Besides, what do you know about phone sex?"

"Absolutely nothing at all," he replied as he turned towards me and infringed upon my personal space, his lips hovering near mine.

"Uh huh. So you think he's going to go up to Boston?"

"For the possibility of getting laid? Hell yeah," he answered.

"Men," I mumbled with feigned annoyance, just before he finally brought his mouth to mine.

We sat there like that for several minutes, just kissing comfortably without any urgency to take it to the next level.

Although I _planned_ to take it to the next level, until we were interrupted by my phone.

"You don't have to get that, do you?" Lupo asked me, his hand still beneath my shirt, his thumb stroking over the lacy edge of my bra.

"Mike's been working Lauren's case all day. He might need me for something," I answered rationally.

He sighed his concession and slowly withdrew his hand, but I kissed him again, quickly this time, and said, "Don't forget where we were, okay?"

"Not a chance."

He smiled as I got up from the couch in search of my phone, and then he said, "You know that was Mulder's first kiss."

"Are you kidding me?" I asked him, pausing with the phone in my hand.

"Nope. He said he had a couple of pecks on the cheek back in high school, but nothing like what Cecilia laid on him today."

"I'm not sure I like her being so forward," I replied as I glanced down at the display.

"Do I have to remind you? First date?" he teased, but my response was hampered by my immediate foul mood at the sight of Schmenke's name on my caller ID.

"It's Schmenke," I told Lupo, and then I pushed the button, probably milliseconds before the call went to voicemail, and answered, "Rubirosa."

"Rubirosa? Or Lupo? Because I hear you're recently married."

"You're checking me out?"

"I like to know who I'm battling with," he said, and I would swear I could feel the slime pouring off of him even through the phone.

"What do you want?" I asked in annoyance.

"Well, I tried calling your boss, but I think he's ducking me for some reason," he told me.

"I can't imagine why," I replied smartly. "It's Sunday evening. What's so important that can't wait until tomorrow morning?"

"I just picked up something on the wire that I thought might be of interest to you and your overzealous so-called victim, Ms. Hayes."

"What?" I asked tersely, and then I felt Lupo come up behind me, settling his hands on my waist in a show of silent support.

"Seems there was a rape committed a few hours ago in Brooklyn. The poor girl was beaten and held up against a wall in an alley while the guy did her from behind. It's a damn shame, really. She survived it, though. She said he held a gun to her head. Oh, and that he smelled like Wild Turkey."

"What the hell are you trying to pull, Schmenke?"

"Me? Nothing at all. I'm just saying…my client's in jail and couldn't possibly have committed this crime."

"So? We've got DNA on our side."

"That's debatable. What you've got is a hostile and burnt-out SVU detective. Take that DNA out of the equation and factor in this latest attack…similar MO…the victim's body type matches Ms. Hayes…you tell your boss that he can tap dance all he wants, but there's no way in hell we're not taking this to trial now, because we just got our reasonable doubt."

TBC...


	102. Chapter 102

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>"Wow. Mike, that's so…"<p>

I trailed off, not sure how to describe my reaction to the story he and Carolyn told us, about Casey and his dealings with Shannon, and of course, how he's related to Shane O'Connor.

"I know," Mike replied.

"Does he know?" I asked.

"O'Connor? I don't know. Maybe."

"It would explain his protectiveness of you," Bobby commented.

"Yeah, but why wouldn't he just say it? He told us everything else."

"Maybe he really _does_ just consider it paying a debt to Casey," I suggested. "Maybe he doesn't know."

"I'm guessing you're going to tell him," Bobby added.

"Yeah," he agreed. "And you know, I thought I was going to sit on it for a while and let it sink in, but…I don't think I need to do that. I'm good with it."

"It does explain why you were so good at that Tony Soprano act," I teased him.

He grinned at me and picked up his glass, tipping it in my direction before he took a long drink from it.

"So what happened with the case today?" Carolyn asked.

I picked up the menu, deciding that I should put some food on my stomach, and I glanced over it while Bobby started recapping.

"Wait, so you caught Demachi?" Carolyn interrupted. "How?"

"It's kind of a long story," I hedged.

"I don't have anywhere to be," Mike said reasonably. "Do you?"

"Actually, I really need to get on the elevator," I replied, nudging Bobby's leg with mine, beneath the table.

Because we still haven't managed our quickie yet.

After leaving 1PP, my dad called us.

"_How does it feel knowing your little brother is coming to work with you_?" he'd asked me excitedly. "_Isn't it great? How many years did you spend in Vice before getting the nod to Major Case?"_

Despite my slight annoyance at my father's comparison, I wasn't going to knock his good mood.

"_Too many,"_ I answered. "_And I'm going to love working with Sean. He's a great detective."_

"_Of course he is,"_ my father boomed. _"He learned from the best!"_

"_Yes, he did, Dad."_

I waited for my father to continue his assertion that Sean had garnered every technique in his arsenal from the old man, but he surprised me.

"_You and Bobby_," he declared. "_I'm proud of both of you for working with him, teaching him the ropes. He would've made it to Major Case eventually, but you certainly paved the way for him. Good girl, Alex."_

What?

"_Um…thank you. But Sean earned it. He's a quick learner, and he and Hayes work really well together, so that helps, too."_

"_I want you and Bobby to stop by the house, if you can. Sean and Alicia are coming over, and the kids…it's going to be an impromptu celebration."_

"_Stop by? Staten Island?"_

But that's exactly what we did. And we were on our way back to the Millennium when Mike invited us for a drink.

"Should I ask what's so special about the elevator?" Carolyn asked.

"Probably not," I answered. "So…I guess you guys haven't talked to John or Mary since you've been back."

"We walked from the parking garage into the bar," Mike said. "We haven't talked to anyone except you two."

"Oh."

"So…that long story?" Carolyn prompted. "How'd you find Demachi?"

"I think…we should text Mary and see if they want to join us," I replied innocently. "Don't you think so, Bobby?"

"Alright, what's going on?" Mike asked.

"You should ask your brother," I said as I typed the text.

"I just did," Mike retorted, eyeing Bobby suspiciously. "So let's hear it."

"It's nothing," Bobby deflected. "John hatched a plan to help out with the case, that's all."

"John. You mean non-detective John? Why's he getting involved?"

"Seriously?" I asked him. "Maybe because the Albanians are handing out your photo like solo cups at a keg party."

"What'd he do? Offer to buy them off? Because buying and selling is what he does, not investigative work."

"Why don't _you_ tell him that?" I said as I read Mary's reply.

_**Be there in five.**_

"Because I'm sure he hasn't heard it enough from Mary," I finished. "You know, I'm on board with the whole _you shouldn't have done it_ theory, but he _did_ do it and it turned out okay and we caught Demachi. And your house wasn't burned down in the process so I think all's well that ends well, right?"

"My house? Oh my God…he pretended to be me, didn't he?"

Bobby nodded at him, and Mike said, "And then what?"

"And then…O'Connor had a chat with them."

"O'Connor?" Carolyn asked in surprise.

"Uh huh," I said with a nod. "He and John joined forces…in an effort to protect you, I might add. So while this might piss you off a little, please keep in mind that his intentions were good, and he wasn't reckless in his planning."

"And Mary's probably already strung him up by his toes," Bobby added.

"Yeah, well I don't need to hear about their sex life," Mike joked after a moment's pause, and I could tell that our words were getting through to him. "So, he wasn't in any danger?"

"Aside from the car bomb and the Molotov cocktails and the bullets flying around? No, not at all," I answered.

He barked out a laugh, but then looked at me quizzically when I continued to stare at him.

"You're being serious?" he asked.

"Hey, what's done is done, right?" I said casually.

"And you caught Demachi?" Carolyn confirmed again.

"He was the one slinging bullets at us. I ended up shooting him in the leg, causing him to ram his car into a telephone pole."

"How do you know that I'm not the one who shot him?" Bobby asked.

"Because I shoot better than you."

"Says who?"

"Everyone," I replied with a shrug.

And no, I don't believe that, but I like getting him riled up.

It'll save us time in the elevator.

"I seem to recall him making a hell of a shot on Ashley Moser," Mike said.

"You're going to take his side?" I asked, pleased by Mike's loyalty.

"When he's right," he answered insouciantly. "You're a decent shot, but I don't know…I think he's got you beat."

"Who's got who beat?" Mary asked, suddenly appearing at the table.

"Where's John? You didn't really kill him, did you?" I asked as I looked past her in search of the man in question.

"I did quite a few things to him, but killing wasn't one of them," she replied with a grin.

"Oh, way too much information!" Mike told her.

"So he's off the hook already?" Carolyn asked her.

"More or less," she said ambiguously. "He'll be here in just a minute. So how was Florida?"

"I'm Shane O'Connor's nephew," Mike stated unequivocally.

"You're…what? Wow. Um…okay, I didn't see that coming. Does he know?"

"I don't know, but I'm about to find out," he answered, holding up his phone and jiggling it briefly. "I sent him a message asking him to meet me here."

"We'll finish our drinks and head on up then," I offered.

"Anxious to get to your elevator?" he teased.

"Elevator?" Mary asked, looking at me quizzically. Then she rolled her eyes and said, "You have a perfectly nice hotel suite. Why do you feel the need to defile the elevator?"

"I didn't say anything about doing anything," I lied. "That was all Mike's dirty mind, making inferences."

"Based on history," he asserted. "I know how you two work. And to get back to my point, there's no need for you to run off. We're all family, and now he is, too."

I absolutely love seeing Mike this at ease with himself.

He's come so far.

And really, it probably worked out better this way, just now learning about O'Connor. Mike got to spend time with him and they were able to cultivate mutual respect without the entanglement of any kind of blood relation.

Although will it bother O'Connor to learn that _his_ father was a cheater?

And that he'd sired two sons concurrently?

It's hard to say, but hopefully it's far enough in the past that it won't instigate any hard feelings.

"You guys look way too happy," John stated as he arrived at the table and took a seat next to Mary. "So either you're busy planning my demise, or…"

"Oh, we did that in the first five minutes," I told him.

"I knew you'd rat me out," he said to me and Bobby, but without any heat.

"Don't do the crime if you can't do the time," I teased. "And four inspectors, five detectives, an ADA and an ME know what happened. Did you really think Mike wouldn't find out?"

"No," he admitted, looking at Mike apologetically. "And honestly, you weren't the one I was worried about. I figured if it came down to it, you'd kick my ass and then we'd be good again. Mary's another story."

He put his arm around her, pulling her close to him and planting a kiss on the top of her head.

"I still might kick your ass," Mike said.

"I still might, too," Mary added, although she smiled as she said it.

"Okay, I really have to know," I said, looking at John. "How did you defuse the bomb?"

"I didn't," he replied. "O'Connor's men did that."

"Not the car bomb. The Mary bomb."

"Thank you, Alex," she said wryly.

"You have to admit that you were pretty ticked," I responded.

"I was, but he explained why he did what he did and I _listened_ like you told me to do, and even though I don't agree with it, I understand it. _And_ he promised not to leave me out of the loop ever again."

"Wow, I don't know Mary. That sounds awfully level-headed to me."

She smiled that smartass smile of hers and tossed her napkin at me.

"I've been hanging around you too much. I need to get out of 1PP."

"Sounds like that might happen sooner rather than later," Mike remarked.

"Definitely. Did you tell him about Rama?"

So the six of us sat around the table, drinking beer and eating burgers while talking about the case until O'Connor showed up.

"I'm busting up a party, am I?" he asked easily. "Should I come back then?"

"No," Mike said. "Pull up a chair."

"You're wanting to flay me for helping your brother, is that it?" O'Connor asked, giving Carolyn a wink as he settled himself at the end of the table.

"No, but I might," Mary said. "What made you decide to even meet with him?"

"He's John Strathmore," O'Connor said simply. "_And_ he's Mike's brother. Two points in his favor, so I'd be a fool to say no. And I may be many things, my dear, but I'm no fool."

"I'm pretty sure it's against USMS protocol for me to by a mob boss a beer, but screw protocol. Drinks are on me," she told him. Then she reached out and put her hand on O'Connor's arm, growing serious as she added, "And thank you for looking out for him. For both of them."

"The pleasure's been mine, my dear," he answered, patting his hand over hers briefly and then turning to Mike and Carolyn. "So what did you think of Cathleen?"

"I'd say she outgrew the shrew persona," Carolyn supplied. "She was very nice."

"And chatty," Mike added. "She told me everything I wanted to hear, and more."

"So you're at ease with your roots now, are you?"

"Um…I am," he answered, and I saw him cast Bobby a nervous look, as though he wasn't quite sure how to say the words.

"Shannon blackmailed Casey to keep him away from Mike," Bobby spoke up in an effort to ease the way for Mike. "Did you know about that?"

"Did she now? What could she have on him that would do the trick? He wasn't much more than a boy."

_So he doesn't know._

Which means his protectiveness was strictly out of loyalty and a sense of duty towards Casey.

And damn if that doesn't make me like the man even more than I already do…

"She threatened to expose the truth about his father," Mike continued carefully. "Someone who's identity wouldn't sit well with the Boston police. Especially not back in the day."

O'Connor paused with his glass mid-way to his lips and then set it back down, looking at Mike with curiosity.

"So 'tis true then," he said slowly. "His da was mine."

"You knew of the possibility?"

"I heard the tale, but my pappy denied it. And Ian always told me that it didn't matter either way because Casey was a brother no matter what."

He stared into his glass for a moment, and no one said anything, waiting to see how he was going to respond.

I felt a little like a voyeur, and yet I know that our presence is giving Mike the support he needs.

"Don't be worrying about the likes of me, Mike Logan," O'Connor said at last. "I'll take it to the grave."

"I understand," Mike said quietly. "I'm sure it's hard to learn that your father was unfaithful."

"No, my boy. 'Tis you who concerns me. If it becomes known that your uncle is…_me_…it might cause you some trouble, for the same reason your father wanted to keep it a secret. You're on one side of the law and I'm on the other."

I glanced at Mike as he listened to O'Connor's words, and I could feel his hesitation.

O'Connor was giving him the opportunity to keep the secret, and Mike was tempted, probably only because of how he thought _we_ might react to his new ties.

"You were on the right side today," John pointed out, obviously picking up on Mike's uncertainties, just like me.

"You've been helping us for days," I added. "And you helped last fall."

"And I don't see Mike losing his job because of his uncle's profession," Bobby said.

"Not to mention the fact that I'm buying you drinks," Mary said. "You know, that might be considered bribery of some sort, but you know what I think?"

"Screw protocol?" Carolyn asked with a smile.

"Exactly. So forgive me if I'm stepping on your toes, Mike, but I'm thinking we don't let O'Connor off the hook so easily, right? I mean, he's your uncle. Surely that comes with a secret handshake, or the keys to an underground lair…something."

It didn't come with any of that.

For tonight, what it comes with is a hug.

After our encouraging comments, and Mary's joke, Mike looked at O'Connor and said, "Unless you have a problem claiming me, I don't plan on burying the truth. You're my uncle."

And I'm sure he'll deny it once he's back in Boston, but O'Connor's eyes filled with tears as he stood up and wrapped his arms around Mike, holding onto him for a long minute before slapping him on the back in that enthusiastic manner men use to downplay a show of emotion.

"You know what this means, right, my boy?" O'Connor asked once he was seated again, and we'd ordered another round for everyone.

"Um…that I have to recuse myself from investigating cases involving the Irish mob?"

"Well, there's that," O'Connor said on a laugh. "But it means you'll be coming to Boston. My Claire will be wanting to meet you, to be sure. Both of you. Bloody hell, I'd best be asking all of you unless I want to be sleeping on the couch at night."

It's crazy, but the mood was like a carnival.

If I didn't know better, I'd swear this whole thing was a dream.

Our case would wrap up tomorrow.

Mary and John are going to get married this week.

Mike found out that his father loved him, and that he has an uncle who wants to be a part of his life.

There's only one thing I can think of that'll make this night any better…

"Are you ready to go?" I whispered to Bobby, and as I posed the question, I moved my hand from a respectable spot on his thigh to a spot more suited to my mood.

Suffice it to say that if he were a left-dresser, I'd be fondling the boys right about now.

"Yes," he answered decisively, scooting back slightly in his chair. "Um…I hate to be a killjoy but we've got a big day tomorrow. You know, US Attorneys to trip up, mobsters to catch…no offense, of course."

"None taken, my boy."

"You're calling it quits? Really?" Mary asked.

"Some of us need our beauty sleep," I told her with a shrug.

"Uh huh. Sleep," Mike said with a nod. "Is that your code word for it now?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I answered vaguely as I walked around the table and leaned down to kiss him on the cheek before I whispered, "I'm glad this worked out. You deserve it."

It took us nearly ten minutes to finish our goodbyes and leave the bar, but once we did, I shifted my focus back to where it's wanted to be since this afternoon.

"Are we really going to do this?" Bobby asked me as we moved through the lobby towards the hallway that was lined with elevators.

"It was your idea," I reminded him. "Man up."

"But I hate to be so…quick."

"That's the definition of a quickie, Mr. Wikipedia," I teased as I pushed the _up_ button.

"But this is John's hotel."

"Right. What better place to do it? If we _do_ get caught, he's not going to press charges."

"I take back what I said about you being level-headed," he said. "You're an adrenaline junkie."

And he might be right about that, because as we stood there waiting for the elevator, I could feel the rush in anticipation of what we're about to do.

Because we _are_ doing it.

Bobby might be acting like the voice of reason, but he's just as stirred up by the idea as I am.

The ping of the elevator had me feeling like Pavlov's dog, considering the fresh flood of arousal that washed through me.

I'm never going to look at elevators the same after this.

It'll be added to my list of oddly erotic places.

Parking garages…ferries…department vehicles…and now elevators.

The doors closed behind us, and I moved towards him, but he turned the tables on me, surprising me with his quickness. I mean, I knew he was with me, but…he was _really_ with me.

He pushed me up against the mirrored back wall of the elevator and immediately kissed me with the fervor of a sailor just returned home after a year-long stint on a submarine.

He didn't waste any time unbuttoning my jeans, and yeah, I was really wishing I was wearing a skirt tonight, but since I'm not, we'll make the best of it, and considering the deftness of his fingers and the intensity with which he went about the task, my pants were around my ankles in no time.

_Time to hit the stop button._

I slipped out of one shoe while I reached out blindly, feeling for the button while he continued kissing me and undoing his pants at the same time. Multi-tasking at its best, that's for sure, although I couldn't quite find the button, and the longer we went at it, the less I cared.

I freed one leg from my jeans just as his pants dropped to the floor, and he picked me up and leaned his body against mine, trapping me against the wall while he pushed forcefully into me.

_And we're still going up_, I thought hazily.

Although at least no one had called for the elevator yet.

But still…I'm a forty-three year old police detective…getting caught boffing in an elevator, even with my husband, wouldn't be my smartest move.

"Stop," I managed to say.

"What?" he asked, faltering momentarily in the frenzied pace we were keeping.

"Not…you. The…button… "

"Oh, thank God," he groaned as he once again amplified the rhythm until I was sure the mirrors behind me would crack under the pressure.

His lips found mine again, and his hands tightened their grip on my ass, and then he turned us to the side, so that I was plastered against the side wall instead of the back, all without missing a beat.

And then I felt him let go of me with one hand, even though I was still securely held up by his other hand and the weight of him against me, and the thrill that was zipping through me was so intense, so unbelievable that I could feel myself only moments away from having stars explode behind my eyes, and his increased urgency told me that he was right there with me and then he tore his lips away from mine for just a second as his hand finally reached what it had been seeking…

The stop button.

The alarm sounded as the elevator came to a halt, and his mouth immediately came back to mine so that he was kissing me as he made the final few thrusts that took both of us over the edge and _oh my God_…

I can't feel my toes or my face and my body is tingling all over and I don't want to move…I don't _ever_ want to move.

And then the elevator phone started to ring and I had to laugh.

"It's always the damn phone, isn't it?" I asked him as he started chuckling, too, and life filtered back into both of us, allowing us to find the strength and the will to pull ourselves together and get off of this elevator.

"I'm sure it's security, checking to see if we're alright."

"You think they have cameras in here?" I asked suddenly, and I don't have any idea why I didn't think of that before because I'm a _cop_ for Christ's sake, and how many times have we watched footage from elevator security cameras?

"It's a billion-dollar hotel. I'd say yes," he answered in a tone that told me he hadn't thought about it either.

He slowly let me down to my feet and I grabbed for my pants, sticking my foot back into the leg of the jeans while at the same time, I reached over to push the button again, to restart the elevator.

We were almost on our floor, apparently having traveled twenty-three floors before we managed to push the button, and by the time it opened on twenty-five, we were mostly put back together.

"I'm not sure if I can walk after that," he told me with a grin as we headed down the hall towards our room.

"See? Quick can be good," I replied as I grabbed onto his hand. "But you're going to have to tell John…that tape has to be erased."

"It might not be a tape. It could be a loop."

"Maybe. But still…"

"You want me to call him and tell him that we had sex in his elevator and can he please stop by security to pull the feed?"

"Yes," I answered. "Tonight."

"He's probably still down in the bar," he reasoned.

"He owes us," I pointed out.

"So…discharging a firearm on a public street is nullified by covering up lewd and lascivious behavior?" he asked me with a smirk as he slid his keycard through the lock.

"Exactly," I agreed. "Although…you know, maybe that's not fair."

"You think he'll still owe us?"

"No, I'm thinking we'll owe him."

"After what he did?" he asked in surprise.

I closed the door behind us, and slid the lock home before turning around and wrapping my arms around him.

"He only fired a .22," I whispered into his ear. "But you...you brought out the big gun."

TBC...


	103. Chapter 103

**Lauren POV**

* * *

><p>"What do you think?"<p>

"What do _I_ think? I think you're crazy," I said to B as we walked from the subway station to 1PP.

Of course, I said the words in a way that told him crazy or not, I'm game.

"I've been told that a time or two," he agreed, smiling at me as he settled his arm across my shoulders. "Although never by someone quite so beautiful."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Detective," I joked.

Because I can't help it.

I feel really good.

B put my father in his place, and I think maybe it helped. He sent me a text last night, apologizing yet again, and asking for me to please give him another chance.

And then he sent Bernard one, thanking him for the frank discussion and for making him see the light.

I'm not sure exactly what he meant by that, but I'm just glad that he seems to be coming around.

And this Albanian case…it's about ready to reach culmination, and it feels good to know that I had a small part in it. It was a lot of fun joining in yesterday, and watching B in the interrogation room. He's pretty sexy when he's in serious cop mode. Of course, I think he's pretty sexy all of the time, but still…I liked watching him.

Then we had a nice evening out with Mike and Jennifer.

I'm glad that I'm getting the opportunity to know both of them a little better, and he seems to have learned how to relax and have a good time. He always used to look so uptight, so it was kind of neat to see him sitting across from me, in shorts and a t-shirt, flirting with Jennifer.

And they most definitely flirted with each other. It was really cute.

And considering that it's only been a week since I saw him sitting shell-shocked in Anna Holly's kitchen, I'm really happy to see how much he's progressed, and I think this thing he's started with Jennifer is good for him.

Good for both of them, I guess. I still don't know her that well, but what I know, I like.

I knew that she was curious yesterday, when I had to go back into the conference room for my cell phone, and she'd found it at the exact time that Mike was calling me.

_Curious and probably jealous_, I amended.

I can't say that I blame her, especially when a few minutes later she walked into the hall and caught the tail end of my conversation with him, something that might sound suspect to someone who doesn't know the truth about what's going on with me.

She looked upset by what had clearly been a confrontational conversation between her and Daniels, and then I'd inadvertently compounded upon her distress.

Which is why I insinuated myself into her plans.

Me, coming out and saying _hey, there's nothing at all going on between me and your new boyfriend_ might be sufficient, but I thought it would be even better if I not only told her but showed her, by being her friend and talking about me and Bernard and telling her about my earlier conversation with Mike.

By the end of our run, she'd relaxed considerably, so it was no surprise to see the two of them come into Steve-O's looking all a-glow just from each other's company.

Maybe after we spend a few more days as running partners, I'll quiz her about why she's only _sleeping_ in his bed.

It's not my business, of course, but I'll admit to having curiosity about the matter.

I mean, Mike's a pretty cute guy. And I know that Jennifer really likes him, so I don't know…I can't imagine trying to spend the night at B's place without there being nakedness involved.

Case in point: last night after Steve-O's, we went back to our place and put in more time on his Vincent Wolfe rug which, by the way, probably has a permanent imprint of my ass considering the amount of time we've spent on it.

What can I say? I like the thick, softness of the rug, and it's probably the bad girl in me that enjoys engaging in carnal activities on such an expensive item.

If I weren't currently in a truce with my father, I'd probably tell him about that, just to piss him off.

But I'm not worrying about my father right now. In fact, I'm not worrying about anything.

Last night, I was able to put everything out of my mind and just enjoy being with Bernard, and after we went to bed and I was wrapped in his arms beneath the heavy down comforter, I slept all night without any hint of bad dreams.

And now this morning, I'm headed into 1PP as a permanent part of Major Case.

And believe it or not, that's not even the best thing of all.

The best thing is B and his crazy idea.

"Oh yeah? Will flattery get me a date for lunch?" he teased.

"Depends on who you're asking. I don't know if Alex goes for that kind of thing."

"Oh, you want to be a funny girl, huh?" he replied and then he hugged me towards him and planted a kiss on my cheek. "Just for that, maybe I will ask Alex."

"Do it when I'm around. I want to see what Bobby has to say about that."

"Good point. Okay, well if I can't have her, I suppose I'll settle for you."

"You'll settle, huh?"

"And by settle I mean you're the only woman I want, for a lunch date or otherwise," he clarified.

"Uh huh. So…you really want to know what I think about your insane scheme?"

"Only if you think it's a great idea."

"I think…"

"Hey, Hayes! Pretty awesome, huh?"

I looked over to see Eames, with a huge grin on his face, crossing the street towards us.

"Act like you belong here, Eames," I admonished jokingly. "Or the old guys will eat you alive."

"I _do_ belong here," he replied confidently.

And I certainly can't fault him for his excitement. Without a doubt, I'm feeling it, too.

The three of us entered the building together and went up to the eleventh floor. I would've liked to spend a few more minutes alone with Bernard, but my partner seems too enthusiastic about our first day in Major Case to pick up on the vibe I was sending his way.

And that's fine.

B and I will have more time to talk later.

"If you don't catch a case right away, you might want to observe a couple of interrogations," Bernard told me as we stepped off the elevator. "Mary's going to be in with Bailey first thing this morning. We should be selling tickets for that."

"Who's Bailey?" Eames asked him.

"Never mind," I said, giving him a light shove in the direction of Ross' office as I winked and smiled at Bernard as a means of goodbye.

Ross had said that he'd meet us in his office on this floor, where he could follow up our indoctrination by assigning us desks and introducing us to the other detectives on duty.

Although, I think by now most everyone knows us, but I guess he wants to walk through the steps with us. That way, nothing slips through the cracks.

Eames and I both waved at Bobby and Alex as we passed through the room, and then when we got to Ross' office door, I knocked and while we waited, Eames flashed me another smile.

"So what'd Loo say to you when you cleaned out your desk?" he asked me.

"You mean _Captain_ Van Buren?" I corrected.

"Yeah," he acknowledged. "Man, you know, it might be good that we're not going back there, because I'm not sure I could get used to calling her that. She's just…Loo."

"You were only there for a few weeks. How used to it could you be?" I said, enjoying giving him a hard time.

"As used to it as you," he pointed out. "So…did she say anything?"

"Not much. I called to thank her for the opportunity and the guidance, and she wished me luck. But I didn't have to go over there. I didn't have anything personal that I needed to pick up."

"Seriously?"

"Like you said, we weren't there for very long, and most of that time we still spent working out of here, so…"

"That's true," he agreed with a nod. "I guess most of what I had was just pictures of Alicia and the kids."

"Well, there you go. None of that stuff for me."

"Yeah, so…are you going to put a nice, big, framed picture of you and Bernard somewhere on your desk in here?" he asked with a smirk.

"I might. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Nope, not at all."

"Good answer."

"I mean, it'd only be fair. It looks like he's got one of you."

He chucked me with his elbow as he made the statement and then he nodded his head in the direction of Bernard's desk.

It was probably fifteen feet away, but I could still easily tell that the snapshot prominently displayed on his desk was one of me.

And I remember exactly when he took it, but I didn't realize he'd printed it out and framed it, and damn if that gesture didn't make my insides melt.

I stared at it for a moment longer, thinking more about what we discussed this morning, and then Ross' office door came open.

"Sorry to make you wait, Detectives."

"It was my fault," Liz said as she slipped out past us.

"Liz…hi. How's everything going?"

"Good, thanks. I need to get to the morgue, but we'll catch up, okay? If not sooner, then definitely Friday night."

"I'm in," I agreed quickly, looking forward to our girls' night.

"Great," she replied as she walked away. Then she called back over her shoulder, "Welcome to Major Case, Detectives."

"That was supposed to be my line, but whatever," Ross said as he waved us into his office. "Let's do a quick rundown so that we're all on the same page, and then I'll turn you loose."

We spent the next half-hour or so listening to Ross go through the standard rigmarole and then he asked my partner to wait outside for a minute, stating that he wanted to talk to each of us in private.

It made me slightly nervous, because I had a feeling it was going to be about my relationship with Bernard, and yet at the same time, he knew about it when he offered me the position, _and_ he's our friend, so I wasn't sure what to expect.

"Just a couple of things," he said easily once we were alone. "You know that six months ago, things were a lot different. There were rules…not just about partners dating, but about fraternization between people in the same department."

"Yes, sir," I agreed cautiously, still uncertain about his direction.

"And even though it's acceptable now, I'm still not sure about working through the details. I mean, Bobby and Alex came back to this department as a married couple. So did Mike and Carolyn. No one else has ventured into the inter-departmental dating pool, so…"

"So you're worried what might happen if Bernard and I break up?" I guessed.

"That, or maybe it's not as easy to work together as you think, or…I don't know, really. I'm not sure what issues might arise, and I guess I just want to make sure that you and I have an open door of communication."

"Of course. But you know, since we're not partners, I really don't see it being a big deal. And as far as us breaking up…I'm sure everyone says it, but still…I don't see that happening. You know we moved in together, right?"

"Mulder has your apartment," he said with a smile.

"Right," I said quickly, having forgotten that he would know because of that. "So, just consider us married. You won't have any problems with us."

"Good to know. Um…no unauthorized sharing of cases, no favoritism with case assignments, no personal squabbles brought into the office," he ticked off, and then he added, "And no funny business in the break room."

"Got it," I agreed. "So…is that no funny business rule just for the break room, or…"

"Ha ha," he retorted wryly. "And now that I've said what I _had_ to say, let me add this. If you help him on a case, or vice versa, I'm fine with it. Just don't leave your partners in the dark, and don't keep secrets from me. I'm here to watch your back, so don't water down your updates with the intent of protecting me, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Although for some reason, that happens, too, and I get it, I really do, so if you're not sure, talk to one of the more senior detectives. Either Goren can probably offer you sound advice."

"Okay," I promised.

"Good, we're done," he said, shaking my hand. "It's good to have you on board, Detective. I had a couple of desks brought in over the weekend, over on that far wall, so go ahead and get yourself situated while I talk to your partner, and then we'll see what we have to get you started."

I got up from the chair and followed him to the door. He opened it, and the commotion in the squad room demanded our attention.

"It's not a request!" Mary was shouting into the phone. "You can either carry your ass up here right goddamn now, or I'll send a couple of officers down to fetch you the old-fashioned way. So what's it going to be, Bailey?"

"Wow, she's…almost scary," Eames muttered to me.

Ross chuckled, but then waved my partner into his office as I asked him, "If she gets him up here, can I watch? I mean, it'll be a good learning experience, right?"

"It won't be _if_ she gets him up here, it'll be _when_, and when she does, come get me. We'll all watch."

He closed the door, so I headed over to my new desk as Mary continued her phone conversation.

"You know what? Never mind. I'll come down there and get you myself," she said crossly, then she put her hand over the mouthpiece and grinned at Alex as she whispered, "He might not have peed his pants in the second grade, but I bet he's doing it now."

"Where is he?" I asked as I migrated towards the Gorens' desks.

"He's on the fifth floor, supposedly having a behind-closed-doors conversation with Christina. He says she's ready to talk," Bobby explained.

"I bet she is," Alex added. "She had all weekend to weave a new story. I'm kind of curious to hear what she comes up with this time."

"Five minutes, Bailey," Mary said venomously. "If you have any hope of avoiding prison, you'll get up here and explain yourself."

She hung up the phone and then smiled at me and said, "So…first day and you already get called into the boss' office?"

"Intro to Major Case," I explained.

"Alone?" Alex asked me.

"He had to add the disclaimer about no shagging in the break room. He calls it the Goren rule."

"He does not," Bobby disputed while at the same time Alex shrugged and nodded knowingly.

"Okay, so he didn't," I admitted. "But he did give me the basics on keeping it professional. And he told me to come to you two if I have any ethical questions that need answering."

"Are you still joking?" Bobby asked.

"No, I'm being serious now."

"Huh," he mused.

"I guess Sean's getting the same talk, only the slightly different proviso about no hair pulling or name calling with siblings who work in the same department," Alex remarked.

"Hopefully Ross will add no pouting or whining to that stipulation, too. Remember how he acted when you guys took our case?"

"Which time?" Alex said on a laugh. "But yeah, I think he's over it. I mean, he's here. You both are. That's quite the accomplishment."

"Thank you," I replied with a smile. "Okay, well, I guess I'd better…"

"It's about damn time," Mary interrupted, and I looked over to see her glaring at the newcomer in the room. I've never met Bailey, but my guess is that this is him...the US Attorney who's about to be flayed.

"Do I need to remind you that you're speaking to a United States Attorney?" he asked with guarded arrogance.

"I think I need to remind _you_," she retorted. "Because somewhere along the line, you forgot what that title means. Come on. Let's find an empty room."

Mary gestured for Bailey to follow her down the hall, and as soon as they went into an interrogation room, Alex and Bobby took off down the hall after them.

"You coming, Lauren?" Alex asked.

"On my way."

I went back and knocked on Ross' door and then opened it just a crack.

"Bailey's here," I told him.

"Great. Okay, Eames, I think we're good. Let's go get a good seat for the execution."

TBC...


	104. Chapter 104

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>"I can't let both of you in there."<p>

"Um…okay," I responded hesitantly.

Mary had left Bailey in the interrogation room and was back out in the hall where the entire team had gathered.

She'd asked me to join her and I motioned to Alex, but that's when Mary stopped me.

"Just you," she clarified. Then she added in a hushed voice, "You know, there are security cameras in there."

I closed my eyes and took a moment to silently curse John, and when I opened them, Mary was smiling broadly at me.

"Hey, it's no big deal," she said casually. "I just think it'd be better not to tempt you two. There's no telling what you might end up doing."

"In an interrogation room?" I argued, but then I thought about how many times that little fantasy has gone through my mind, so I added, "With a suspect in there? And you?"

"I'm teasing. But seriously, I think you and I should do this. He doesn't know you, nor are you in any way, shape, or form under his command. _And_ you're about twice his size, and I think we can use that."

"Using me for my body instead of my mind," I replied. "I think I'm offended."

"Don't be," Alex spoke up, having come up behind me. "I use you for both all the time."

"So I've heard," Mary quipped. "Okay, let's get this show on the road. If we can get him to admit to his ties with Christina, that'll be leverage against her. And Alex…she can be all yours, if you want."

"Oh, I want," Alex agreed enthusiastically. I smiled at her zealousness, and started to make a comment, but then Mary spoke up, getting me back on track.

"Good. Alright, listen up," she said, getting the attention of the other inspectors and detectives. "Bobby and I are going to start this thing, but I'm wide open on strategy, so if you think you see a way to work him, either shoot me a text, or join the party."

Two minutes later, Mary and I entered the interrogation room, where Bailey stood in the far corner, apparently attempting to make a stand by not sitting at the table.

"Have a seat," Mary told him as she gestured towards an empty chair.

"I think I'd rather…"

"Sit down, Mr. Bailey!" I interrupted, shouting so loudly that my voice echoed off the cinder block walls.

Honestly, I startled myself a little, and I'll give Mary points for not visibly reacting, because Bailey sure as hell did.

"Yeah, okay, sure," he said quickly as he took a seat opposite Mary.

I moved to stand a few feet behind her, leaning back against the glass, but maintaining a position that would require him to see _me_ every time he looked at her.

Then I folded my arms across my chest and narrowed my eyes as I settled my gaze on him.

"When did it start?" Mary asked carefully.

"When did what start?"

"Your relationship with Christina."

"If by relationship you mean attorney/witness association, then two weeks ago, when she came to my office."

"How about the association that's _not_ attorney/witness?" I asked gruffly. "When did you start sleeping with her?"

"I'm not," he said firmly, and I almost believe him.

Almost.

And I might have, if he hadn't added indignantly, "That would be a gross violation of policy."

"Oh, well, then I'm sure you didn't," Mary said smartly. "Just like you didn't take any money from her, right?"

"Money?"

"Never repeat the question, Mr. Bailey. That's a classic stall tactic that allows time for an answer to be fabricated," I admonished. "You should know that, being a lawyer and all."

"I'm sorry, what exactly is it that I'm being accused of?" Bailey asked. "Because I don't care for being treated like a criminal."

"If it walks like a duck, and talks like a duck…" I replied.

"Or in your case, like a dick," Mary amended. "Although you know what? You have a point. Detective Goren, would you please do the honors?"

"Chad Bailey, you're under arrest for accepting a bribe, hindering an investigation, and conspiracy to commit a fraud upon the court," I told him.

"Wait, accepting a bribe?" he interrupted.

"There you go again. Repeating what's been said," Mary remarked, shaking her head. "Now how about you just shut up for a minute and let the detective finish, okay?"

I wanted to point out to him that his only contention to the charges had been the acceptance of a bribe, but I don't want him to confess to anything before he's been read his rights, so I went through the Miranda, slowly and carefully, enunciating each word.

I wanted to draw it out to make it even more painful for a guy like him, someone who's supposed to be on the right side of the law.

"Do you understand these rights?" I asked when I finished.

"I'm a lawyer. I think I know the Miranda warning better than you."

"Do you wish to retain counsel at this time?" I questioned, ignoring his dig.

"Like I said, Detective. I _am_ a lawyer."

"That's a no?"

"I waive my right to counsel, okay?" he said smartly. "Can we just move this thing along please? I've got work to do, the first thing being getting these absurd charges dismissed."

He was trying desperately to get his feet beneath him, to act like an innocent man in his position would act, but we weren't going to let him.

"We know about North Carolina," Mary stated. "Is that when you first met up with her? After her boyfriend Marco helped Derek kill the Freemans?"

"I don't know anything about that."

"You're not interested in hearing about it? A crime committed by your star witness?"

"You said her boyfriend killed those people, not her. She hasn't done anything wrong."

"She told Marco to kill them," I clarified. "The woman was Brozi's daughter. Two of those little girls were his grandchildren. What kind of a person sends two hit men in to slaughter innocent children?"

"Like I said, I don't know anything about that."

But he was getting flustered, so I kept pushing it.

"Not to mention the Cincinellis. Four kids, two of them killed in their beds. This is who you want to protect?"

"Christina had nothing to do with it. In fact, she's helping me get a conviction of the man responsible. Jetmir Demachi."

"You can't possibly be that stupid," Mary said. "You want to see the crime scene photos? Because Demachi's a bull in a china shop. The hit on that family…on both families…they were done neatly and quietly. So tell me this, Bailey. Who do you know who has patience and cunning and a firm hold on her temper?"

"You're going to accuse her of killing her own brother? That's crazy. Demachi wanted to know where she was hiding. He thought the brother might know."

"Uh uh. There was no sign of torture. No one was beaten for information. Not like with Inspector Holly, whose blood is on _your_ hands, by the way. I'm holding you partly responsible for her murder."

"What? Why?" he asked, losing his eloquence.

He was sweating profusely and he kept eyeballing me guardedly, so I amped it up a little bit by taking off my jacket and making a show of rolling up my shirt sleeves.

Not that I'm going to beat him or anything, but I guess he doesn't know that.

He didn't take his eyes off of me during the entire process, even though Mary continued talking to him.

"You were covering for Christina. You know she's ass-deep in this Albanian gang, and you know damn well that when this trial is over, if it ever even happens, that she'll be blowing off Witsec and stepping into her spot as the head of the organization. All you had to do was come clean with me and let me know what was going on, and then we would've handled her differently. Christina being tagged as potentially dangerous means that Anna would've had her guard up instead of falling victim to the ploy and allowing herself to be persuaded to bend the rules."

"You can't blame me for one of your inspectors going rogue," he managed to say, and I noticed that he scooted his chair back towards the wall as I walked closer to the table.

"You're going to blame Anna for what happened?" Mary asked defensively.

"She compromised the witness," he stated haughtily.

I was starting to think that as good as Mary is, her presence is slowing our progress.

Bailey feels superior to her, even though she's intimidating.

On the other hand, he's _extremely_ worried about what _I'm_ going to do.

"The witness compromised herself," Mary fired back. "Unauthorized cell phone, non-disclosure about prior acquaintances…not to mention the fact that she's pregnant. It was nice of her not to mention that little tidbit before now. Or did she, and you just failed to pass it on to us?"

Bailey blanched a little at that last statement. He tried to hide it by ducking his head, but I saw it anyway.

Apparently, so did people in the other room, because I could hear Mary's phone start buzzing at the same time as mine.

I pulled mine out and read Alex's text.

_**Call me crazy but could he be the father?**_

Is it odd that her question makes me love her even more?

Maybe, but I don't care, because even with a large piece of glass between us, we're still _right there_.

"I need to step out for a minute," Mary said to me as she showed me her phone.

Hers had a text from Bernard.

_**He's too comfortable with you. Let me tag-team him with Bobby.**_

Apparently Bernard is right there with me, too.

_Although I don't love him, so I suppose there's something more about Alex than just her ability to read my mind_, I thought with concealed amusement.

"Go ahead," I told her. "I'll take care of Bailey."

"Wait, um…you're leaving?" Bailey asked Mary, visibly paling as she got up from her chair and headed for the door.

"Yeah. I'll be back. Don't worry. You'll be fine with Detective Goren," she told him. Then she looked at me and added, "You haven't had an excessive force complaint filed against you in…what, three weeks?"

"Almost four," I replied with a smile.

"There you go," she said, smiling at Bailey. "You're in good hands."

She left the room and I pulled out a chair and sat down without saying a word.

I just stared at him.

He avoided eye contact at first, and then he couldn't help himself.

"What?" he asked at last.

"I'm just wondering…"

I trailed off and let my words hang in the air for a moment, and then he asked, "Wondering what?"

"How it feels to fall so far," I said as I shook my head. "You're a United States Attorney. That means something, you know?"

"I'm glad you appreciate my title," he said, but his self-importance is gone.

_He's waiting for the other shoe._

The door opened, and Bailey nearly jumped out of his skin as Bernard came into the room.

"Inspector Shannon is tied up," he told me as he mimicked my earlier movements by deliberately removing his jacket and rolling up his sleeves. "I offered to come in and lend you a hand."

"Lend him a hand?" Bailey asked, his voice rising in pitch. "A hand at what? Harassing me?"

"No," Bernard said easily. "At getting a confession."

"For what?" Bailey shouted in frustration.

"How about you just admit that you accepted bribe money?" I suggested. "We'll start with that."

I got up and moved around the table so that I was standing next to him, and I placed a hand on his shoulder.

Bailey's a small man, and I could feel his shoulder dip under the weight of my hand.

"But I…"

"And then you can tell us how you withheld information from the Marshal Service in an effort to protect Christina from being investigated," Bernard added as he moved around to the other side, so that we were sandwiching Bailey between us.

"And _then_," I said, allowing for a dramatic pause as Bailey looked up at me awkwardly and then shifted his eyes back and forth between me and Bernard. "You can tell us how it came to pass that you slept with a witness. And while I'm not sure if there's a criminal charge with that, I'm really sure that it's an ethical violation, one your boss won't be too happy to hear about."

"I never said that I slept with her," he denied shakily.

"No, you didn't. But that guy over there?" Bernard said, moving his hand directly in front of Bailey's face so that he could point a finger at me. "He's got this freaky ability that lets him know the truth, even if you never say it out loud."

"What?"

"I'm serious. I mean, the man just _knows_ stuff, you know? It makes him a great detective, but I guess it gets pretty annoying for guys who sit on the wrong side of this table."

"Here's what I think," I said, playing up to Bernard's assertion. "I think you inadvertently crossed paths with Marco and Derek down in North Carolina. I think they intimidated you, kind of like me and Detective Bernard are doing right now. Because you don't seem the type to enjoy physical confrontation, am I right?"

Bailey just stared at me, now leaning back in his chair so that he could look at both of us without getting whiplash.

"I'm telling you," Bernard said with a nod. "Freaky, right?"

"So anyway," I continued. "I think Marco introduced you to Christina, and she offered to reward you for your services. She wanted you to be available to her when it came time for the grand finale of her plan. Only somewhere along the way, you ended up in bed with her."

He started to argue, but I ignored him and said, "It's okay. It happens."

"It apparently happens a lot with Christina," Bernard added.

"So you slept with her, took money from her, and now you've been allowing her to literally get away with murder while she hides behind the Witsec status."

"But…"

"I'm not done," I said firmly. "You also think that she's carrying your baby."

Honestly, it was easier than I expected.

I guess the looming possibility of impending fatherhood has made him even more of a doormat than he was before because he can't afford to end up in prison.

"It wasn't supposed to go like this," he said, covering his face with his hands. "She said…she told me…"

"She painted herself as the victim, didn't she?" Bernard questioned. "Poor little innocent girl being badgered by the big bad Albanians…you bought it, just like you bought her seduction act."

"It's different with us," he argued. "We're in love."

"You and Christina," I said dubiously.

Bernard leaned in closer to him and asked, "Do you know how many times we've heard that during this investigation? She was in love with Derek and he's the father…she's in love with Marco and _he's_ the father…and now you. Get it through your head, Bailey. She played you. She played all of us."

The breakdown was quick and dirty, and ten minutes later, Bernard and I left Bailey in the interrogation room, along with pen and paper, and an officer to watch over him.

"So I wasn't threatening enough, is that it, Bernard?" Mary asked when we all reconvened in the conference room.

"I don't think anyone's ever said that to her," Alex joked.

"Come talk to me after you put on a hundred pounds," Bernard said on a laugh.

"He's right," I agreed. "Bailey just has a hang-up about size. I'm guessing he was bullied as a child."

"Which is how Marco brought him in…he probably used Derek as an enforcer-type, right?" Jennifer questioned.

"Looks like it," I said.

"Well, excellent work, Detectives," Ross spoke up. "What's Bailey's boss going to do about him? Have you given him a heads-up?"

"I sent him a text when Bailey started crumbling," Mary answered. "He's on his way. I'm not sure what will happen with the charges, but he's definitely going to lose his job and his license to practice law."

"Hey, maybe he can testify for the prosecution and join Witsec," Lupo suggested, and there was a bevy of chuckles at the irony.

"As long as he doesn't get assigned to my team, I don't care where he ends up."

"Okay, so…I'm next, right?" Alex asked.

"It's a little scary how excited you are by the prospect," I teased.

Although I'll admit it. I'm excited about watching her. Alex doesn't get nearly the credit she deserves when it comes to the interrogation room. She's every bit as good as me, if not better.

"After what she's done? I think I might just walk in there and pull my gun."

"Detective," Ross admonished lightly.

"I'm kidding," she assured him, but then she winked at me as she flashed me a smile.

"She's being brought up now," Mary said as she put her phone away. "Do you want to do this alone?"

"No, I'll share the fun."

"I think it needs to be detectives, rather than inspectors," Lupo suggested. "For the same reason that Bailey wasn't as afraid of you as he should've been."

"Uh huh," I agreed.

"We know she likes to play up to men," Jennifer added. "So does that work for us or against us in this situation?"

"Against us, I think. I want her on her heels from the beginning, without a friend in sight," Alex said firmly. "So…Chief, can I borrow Hayes?"

"It's okay by me," Ross agreed as he headed for the door. "I'll check and see if Christina's up here yet."

"You want me?" Lauren asked in surprise. She and Sean had been observing along with everyone else, and I'm not sure why it surprises her that Alex wants her to assist with the interrogation. She's very good.

"You always say that women hate you on sight, right?" Alex reminded her wryly, and I guess that's something the two of them must have talked about at some point. I'll never understand why a woman might instantly dislike another, solely based on looks.

Jealousy, maybe.

"Well, yeah, but…" Lauren said hesitantly, clearly not offended at all by Alex's remark.

"Good. I want her to hate you. She hates me, too, so let's see if we can get her good and pissed off. There's no good-cop in this scenario, okay?"

"Got it," Lauren said with a nod.

Ross opened the door and said, "She's ready when you are."

"I was ready for this a week ago," Alex mumbled.

She looked at me lingeringly for a moment, and I know she doesn't need any reassurance, but I gave it to her anyway.

"You've got this," I said quietly.

"Yes, I do," she agreed confidently. "Come on, Lauren. It's time for Christina to go down."

TBC...


	105. Chapter 105

**Bernard POV**

* * *

><p>I stood in the observation room, waiting for Alex and Lauren to make their entrance.<p>

The room was once again packed to the gills…the four marshals, me and Lupo, Bobby, Ross, and Eames.

I'd half-expected that the Logans would be watching this morning, too, but they picked up a case...something about a dead Wall Street guy, found in his hot tub around five a.m. Throw in the wife, a couple of ex-wives and a slew of mistresses and it gets complicated.

I have a feeling this mafia case would feel like a picnic compared to dealing with multiple women scorned.

"I'm not sure I like this," Mary mumbled in her typical annoyed tone.

"What's that?" I asked her in amusement. "Other people wrapping up your case?"

"Exactly that, yes," she agreed.

"Don't forget that this was our case before it was your case," Lupo pointed out.

"Sort of," Daniels argued. "We already had Christina in custody. Right, Dunn?"

Jennifer just shrugged and looked away from Daniels, focusing her attention on the window.

The room was overly quiet for a moment, the tension between the two of them flagrant, but Jennifer clearly didn't want to talk about it, and I'm feeling a little bit of loyalty towards her now that she and Lauren are becoming friends, so when Daniels looked like he was going to push the issue, I spoke up, interrupting his remark.

"I'm just still in shock that you actually left the interrogation room when I suggested it," I said to Mary. "I thought I'd have to drag you out kicking and screaming."

"I considered it," she admitted. "But you were right. Our previous relationship as attorney/inspector was hampering my effectiveness. And you guys definitely had him shaking in his Hugo Boss shoes."

"They were knock-offs," McInnis said.

"His shoes? Seriously?"

"Trust me. Fifty dollars, tops."

"Huh. You can really tell that kind of thing? What about Lupo's?"

"Hey, leave me out of this," Lupo said quickly.

"Five-year-old Florsheims," McInnis responded without missing a beat.

"Ha," Lupo said. "Shows how much you know. They're eight years old."

"I was trying to be nice."

The banter continued for a few minutes, and the strain in the room disappeared, replaced by laughter.

Jennifer flashed me a grateful look that had me curious as to the nature of her issue with Daniels, because I don't see her having any trouble standing up for herself, so it must be something personal that she doesn't want to discuss in front of everyone else.

I made a mental note to pass this scene along to Lauren, thinking maybe she could ask her about it.

And then, since I was thinking about Lauren, I couldn't help but revisit our conversation from early this morning.

I'd just awakened, for no apparent reason, and the room was still fairly dark. I was on my side, facing Lauren, and as I reached out to brush her hair back from her face, she opened her eyes.

A slow smile spread across her face when she saw me watching her, and she scooted closer to me, wrapping her arm around me.

"_I think I need to call my mother,"_ I said quietly.

And I know it was a random thought, but it's what was on my mind, so…

"_Right now?"_ she asked, not questioning the oddity of my remark.

"_No,"_ I said on a chuckle. "_But maybe tonight."_

"_Okay," _she agreed, her voice still raspy from sleep. She trailed her fingers down my back as she inched even closer to me.

"_You don't want to know why?"_

"_I figured it's because…she's your mother. And they aren't all annoying and condescending like mine, so you probably enjoy talking to her."_

Her words were alternated with kisses, light touches of her lips against my chest.

"_She likes to remind me that I'm single. And that I haven't been to visit in a long time. And then she asks if I've lost any weight, and if I remember to shave every morning,"_ I told her, and even though my comment made both of us chuckle, I wasn't kidding. That's exactly what she likes to tell me.

"_Well, now I have to ask then_," she said. "_Why do you want to call her?"_

She put her leg over mine, bringing our hips closer together and then she shifted the focus of her kisses from my chest to my mouth.

Is it any wonder that I didn't respond for quite some time?

I mean, we were in our own little world, under the covers, and she had her naked body fully pressed against mine as she slowly and seductively teased my lips with hers.

"_B?"_

"_Hmm?" _

"_The phone call,"_ she reminded me, and then she eased back from me slightly, enough so that she could reach her hand in between us, and then she started stroking over me in a way that had me uttering her name in some sort of half-moan, half-growl and then our conversation was completely forgotten as I pushed her onto her back and then moved over her, kissing her with renewed purpose and urgency as I drove into her.

She held onto me tightly, matching my sudden fervent enthusiasm perfectly, and I had the insane thought run through my mind that _this is a dream_.

It's too good.

But her nails digging into my back reminded me that this _is_ real.

I kept my eyes open, wanting to see her face when she got to the point of no return.

And she was close…already, she was so close.

I leaned down and kissed her again, putting all of my emotion into it, because I don't think that words will ever be enough to let her know how I feel, and that was enough to do it, to push her over the edge.

And she took me right along with her.

She took in a deep breath and then sighed contentedly as she pulled me down on top of her, and we stayed there like that until the sunlight started filtering in through the blinds.

"_I told her that I think you might be the one,"_ I said at last, breaking the silence of our comfortable cocoon.

"_In the letter,"_ she said, knowing right away what I meant.

"_Right. So I thought I'd better call her to tell her that I was wrong. There's no thinking and there's no maybes. It's just you. You're the one."_

"Finally!" Eames voice said loudly, breaking through my thoughts.

I looked through the window and watched as Lauren walked into the interrogation room.

_It's like a punch in the gut_, Lupo told me once about how it felt to look at Connie sometimes.

That's a pretty damn accurate analogy.

"Great. I'm being summoned," Ross said in annoyance as he looked at his cell phone. "Um…someone update me after this thing gets going, okay? And if there's gunfire…well, cover it up before you call me."

"You got it, boss," Mary told him with a grin.

He left the room, and I reached over to turn up the volume.

"_**Who's the princess?"**_ Christina asked Alex, in reference to Lauren.

"_**There's no need for name-calling,"**_ Alex said easily as she sat in a chair. "_**But if you want to be accurate, she was Miss Minnesota a few years ago."**_

"Miss Minnesota?" Eames said, practically choking from surprise.

"No," I said, shaking my head at his gullibility.

"Then why…"

"She's making Christina hate her," Bobby said. "I have a feeling Lauren's going to be a Rhodes Scholar and a Nobel Prize winner here in just a minute."

"She uses sex as a commodity, so anyone perceived as competition is going to be the enemy," Mary elaborated. "Alex is making sure Lauren is viewed as competition."

"Oh."

"Now be quiet," Jennifer admonished good-naturedly.

"_**I thought she had a prom queen look to her. And she actually has a badge?**_"

"_**Yes, I do,"**_ Lauren spoke up. "_**How's that pregnancy going, Christina? I see you're putting on a little weight."**_

"_**Two pounds," **_she fired back.

"_**Are you sure about that**_?" Lauren asked as she walked around the table and looked her at her dubiously. "_**Huh.**_"

"Ouch," I said in amusement.

"No doubt she's going to hate her after _that_ remark," Lupo said.

Judging by Christina's glare, I'm not sure if hate is a strong enough word.

_**"So where should we start?" **_Alex said, bringing Christina's focus back to her._ **"Um…Demachi. Rama. Marco..."**_

"_**Are we doing a who's who of my past lovers? Because you know, there are a lot more than just those three,"**_ she stated proudly.

"_**Oh, we know,"**_ Alex said. "_**Chad Bailey."**_

"_**Bailey? Um…no."**_

"_**Why, you're not his type?**_" Lauren asked her.

"_**Please. Unlike you, I'm every man's type."**_

"I don't think so, sugar," I mumbled.

"_**What type is that? Easy?"**_ Alex asked her.

"_**Let's get something straight. I sleep with who I want, when I want. How many women can say that?"**_

Alex and Lauren looked at each other and both of them shrugged and nodded, saying, "_**I can**_."

I glanced over at Bobby to see his response to the comment, because for some reason I was feeling strangely proud. Most likely because Lauren probably _can_ sleep with whoever, whenever...and yet she chooses me.

Bobby's expression was one of concentration, but as I looked at him, his gaze flickered briefly to mine and he gave me a knowing half-smile.

Maybe my pride isn't so strange after all.

"_**I'm sure you do, princess**_," Christina said, rolling her eyes at Lauren. "_**That's probably how you got that badge, right?"**_

If Lauren felt a reaction to the insult, she didn't show it.

Instead, she blew it off, as if it the words meant nothing, even though I know she's heard them on several occasions from jealous co-workers.

Women can be vicious, that's for sure.

"_**So what if it is?" **_Lauren retorted._** "That makes us a lot alike, doesn't it? Because sex is how you got Derek and Marco to kill for you. And it's how you got Bailey to protect you."**_

"_**I like sex. And I like seeing how many men will beg for it. But I didn't ask anyone to kill for me."**_

"_**But you did get Bailey to protect you, right?**_" Alex questioned. "_**You're not denying that."**_

"_**Okay, fine. So I slept with him. I thought it would make things go more smoothly if I could trust him to watch out for my best interest instead of his own."**_

"_**That's smart," **_Alex said with a nod.

"_**Are you being facetious?" **_Christina asked suspiciously.

"_**No, I'm saying…you're smart. You covered all the bases, didn't you? You seduced Demachi and Rama so that you could pump them for information. You hooked up with Bailey so he'd watch your back. And Marco…what about him?"**_

"_**Well, he's hot as hell. Sometimes I get tired of closing my eyes and pretending to be somewhere else," **_she replied dismissively._** "With Marco, it was about passion. There was no ulterior motive."**_

"_**And Derek?"**_

"_**I never slept with Derek."**_

"_**Don't start lying now," **_Alex said harshly, shifting gears as she got up from the chair and started walking around the room.

You could feel the moment building, and I found myself holding my breath as I waited to see what would happen next.

"_**We have the pictures that he kept on his cell phone,"**_ Lauren told her. "_**Of all of your lovers, he's the one for whom we have irrefutable proof, so damn it, Christina, give it to us straight. Why Derek?"**_

"_**Does there have to be a why?"**_ Christina asked in frustration. "_**I mean, come on, what's with the sex talk anyway? There's nothing against the law about me sleeping around. I can nail every man in this police station if I want to and there's not a damn thing you can do about it, so climb down off of my ass about my sexual partners, okay?"**_

"_**Not okay. Derek was blue-collar. He wasn't big in the gang. There was nothing he could do for you that would help you achieve your goal, so…"**_

"_**Oh, I achieved my goal,"**_ she retorted. "_**With Derek, I got there every damn night. That's why I was with him. Because he was hung like a fucking horse, okay?"**_

"_**So you love Marco. And you loved to fuck Derek**_," Alex stated. "_**And the fact that they're both pretty handy with a nine mil doesn't come into play at all, right?"**_

"_**I wouldn't know anything about that. You know, this whole thing is really starting to piss me off. I've been…"**_

She trailed off when she realized that she'd lost their attention.

Lauren had pulled her phone from her pocket and then walked over to show something to Alex.

I glanced around the observation room, but everyone seemed to be in a trance, watching the scene unfold, so I'm not sure who sent Lauren a text.

I mean, Mike or Connie, maybe but that wouldn't have anything to do with this.

"_**Ah, there is a God**_," Alex said quietly, and yet purposely loud enough for Christina to hear.

"_**That's what I was thinking**_," Lauren agreed as she broke into a grin. "_**This is…perfect. Do you want to tell her or can I?"**_

"_**Well, she was calling you princess. And she insinuated that you don't deserve your badge,"**_ Alex said.

"_**True, but she's been nails on a chalkboard for you for a week now. I mean, as annoying as I find her, I only just met her so…"**_

"_**What?"**_ Christina asked loudly.

"_**Oh, it's just…we got an interesting bit of information,"**_ Lauren said nonchalantly.

"_**What'd you do, princess? Blow the chief of D's so that you can get another promotion?"**_

Lauren just stood there, smiling at Christina in a way that had me scared she was going to unload on her, either verbally or with her sidearm, and for a minute, it looked like maybe the .45 was winning.

"_**It's not what I did**_," she said through gritted teeth. "_**And actually, it's not what you did either. It's what you didn't do."**_

"_**What didn't I do?" **_she asked snidely.

Alex and Lauren looked at each other again, letting the moment hang in the room, until finally Alex turned to Christina and said, "_**You missed one."**_

"_**Missed one what?" **_

"_**You missed one of Brozi's children. You had Derek kill Helen Olenek and your own brother because they were both his kids, just like you. But our hacker found something you missed. There's another one, alive and well."**_

"Is this a fake-out or is there really another kid?" Eames asked.

"There could be another kid, but we sure as hell don't know about it if there is," I replied.

"Interrogation 101, Eames," Mary said. "It's all about selling the lie."

"And those two are pretty damn good salesmen," Lupo remarked. "If Mulder hadn't texted me earlier to tell me that he hasn't had any luck, I probably would've believed it myself."

"_**And now you might get fucked, but in a bad way this time, princess," **_Lauren said, her voice dripping with sarcasm._** "Because Brozi's son is already part of the Albanian gang. And he didn't try to take over by nearly toppling the whole damn thing. And he's not presently in jail. I think daddy dearest is going to be pretty proud of him." **_

"_**That's impossible**_," Christina mumbled.

"_**Why, because you didn't find it?"**_

"_**Who…who is it?"**_

"Notice how she's not denying anything," Bobby remarked. "She's so busy worrying about the missing child that she's not arguing with the allegation of murder, or with the fact that she's Brozi's kid."

"They've got her rattled," I said. "Stick a fork in her, because she's _done_."

_**"Who is it?"** _Christina yelled again.

"_**You want us to tell you so that you can have him killed, like you killed the others? I don't think so,**_**" **Lauren replied casually.

"_**You're lying."**_

"_**So you've checked?"**_

"_**Of course I checked!"**_ she shouted. "_**I even talked to the old man himself! God damn it, this can't be happening. I was so careful!" **_

She got up from her chair and stalked towards Lauren in a predatory manner, and I have to give Lauren points for not backing away in the slightest.

"_**You're lying, I know you are. You can't trick me, you half-wit bimbo**_," Christina yelled. "_**Tell me who it is!"**_

"_**It won't do you any good,"**_ Alex said calmly. "_**Derek's dead, and Marco's in jail. There's no one left to do your bidding."**_

Christina stopped in her tracks, and for a minute, no one said anything. No one moved.

And then Christina looked at Lauren and smiled at her, and it was amazing to see the transformation from bitch to charmer.

"_**I'll tell you everything you want to know**_," she said smoothly. "_**And I'll testify against Brozi. I know his business inside and out. You'll be responsible for taking him down. You'll be the hero. I can help you. Just think of what that'll do for your career."**_

"_**You mean it'll do more than when I blow the chief?"**_ Lauren asked derisively.

And man, am I glad Ross isn't still in the room because I don't even want him _thinking_ about that.

"_**I'm sorry about that,"**_ Christina said, moving closer to Lauren and turning her back to Alex. _**"I didn't mean it. I was just feeling jealous because…you know, you're so pretty, and…and well, I'm pregnant, so I'm not feeling very good about myself right now, but you know, if you'll help me get a deal, so that I can get out of here and be free to raise my child, I promise I'll make you the most famous detective in the city. I'll give you Brozi, and Demachi and Rama…and whoever this son is of Brozi's…I'm sure I know something about him, too."**_

"_**You'll hand me everyone on a silver platter?" **_Lauren asked her.

"_**Yes, everyone. I'll testify against them all," **_Christina said, reaching out to put her hand on Lauren's arm. _**"And I'll do whatever you need me to do…whatever you want me to do."**_

"Is she propositioning her?" Eames asked.

"Looks like it," Bobby agreed.

"Poor Anna didn't stand a chance against her, did she?" Mary said quietly.

"_**In exchange for not charging you with conspiracy to commit murder?" **_Lauren clarified.

"_**Right. You know, it was Marco's idea anyway. He said that I could run things as long as everyone else was out of the way, and then he told me I had to sleep with Bailey to make sure we could cover it up."**_

"_**Guess what, Christina?"**_ Alex said, tapping her on the arm and then grabbing onto the woman's wrist and pulling her hands behind her back so that she could put on the cuffs. _**"You just admitted to more than enough for us to have your immunity pulled. Bailey's in custody, and the new US Attorney is on the other side of that glass, watching you whore yourself out in an effort to escape prosecution."**_

_**"Wait, that's not what I was doing!"**_

_**"Explain it to the judge."**_

Fifteen minutes later, after the US Attorney actually arrived and was quickly debriefed on the situation, I finally got a moment alone with Lauren.

"You did such a great job," I told her.

"Alex told me how to play it," she deflected.

"Maybe, but you did it perfectly. But do me a favor, and try to avoid using the words _blow_ and _chief_ in the same sentence, okay?" I teased.

She laughed and said, "I'm sorry. She brought it up...I just played along."

"Yeah, well it's a good thing he wasn't in there listening. It might've given him a heart attack."

"Point taken," she replied with a smile. "So you really think I did okay?"

"Better than okay. You held your own against a professional con artist, even when she was slinging arrows at you that had to hurt."

"She did have good aim," she admitted. "But you know, that stuff doesn't bother me as much as it used to. I didn't get this job because of my looks. I know that, and you know that, and that's all I care about."

"That's my girl."

My phone buzzed, so I pulled it out of my pocket, and it was actually a good distraction, because I wanted nothing more than to pull her into a hug, but I wasn't going to start breaking the rules on her first day here.

"It's Mike Cutter," I told her, and then I read the message aloud.

_**I've got some news about the case, but I'd like to talk to both of you together. If you've got time now, I can come that way.**_

"That doesn't bode well," she said worriedly. "What do you think it is?"

"I don't know," I said thoughtfully. "But whatever it is, we'll deal with it. Together."

TBC...


	106. Chapter 106

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>I'm not going to lie.<p>

It felt really, _really_ good to take Christina down.

"You know Lauren's going to get you back for that Miss Minnesota remark, right?" Bobby asked in amusement as I drove us towards Kew Gardens.

"I have no doubt," I agreed. I thought about the scenario in the interrogation room, how the whole thing played out, and then I added, "You know, it must get tedious sometimes."

"What's that?"

"Going through life, looking like she does."

"Well, you should know," he stated. "You're every bit as beautiful."

"You're my husband. You're supposed to say that," I told him with an eye roll. "But I'm not blind, and you aren't either. You know what I'm talking about."

"Maybe," he said vaguely. "I guess I don't really look at her like that. I mean, she's just Lauren. She's a really good detective and a nice person."

"See, that's because you're a good man," I countered, flashing him a quick smile before returning my focus to the road. "You see a person for who she is rather than what she looks like. Christina, on the other hand, couldn't get past the idea that Lauren might be competition for her. She felt the need to brag, to prove that she's more sought-after by men."

"She wants to be the queen bee. Maybe she'll get her wish in prison."

"You know, she only seems mildly concerned about her baby. She brought it up when she was trying to sweet-talk Lauren, but otherwise, she doesn't really seem to care about it. And she's lacking some of the tell-tale signs. I've never noticed her put her hand on her stomach, unless it was a precursor to vomiting."

"She has no maternal instinct," he suggested. "The baby is a commodity for her, something that will help her get what she wants, but she doesn't feel any love for it."

"I wonder who the father really is," I mused. "Someone we're about to lock up? Or someone else, someone innocent in all of this who might be interested in raising the child?"

"As long as she keeps her mouth shut, we may never know."

Bobby's phone rang as we crossed the bridge into Queens.

"It's Mary," he told me.

She and Jennifer were in another car, headed in the same direction, as were Daniels and McInnis, and Lupo and Bernard.

Rama was due to meet with Demachi in forty-five minutes, so we were hurrying to get set up before he arrived.

"Goren," he answered. "Okay…he did? Yeah, sure…okay, good. I'll let you know."

He hung up and then said, "Mulder called Lupo. He found something on Brozi that he thinks we can use. Mary said if we want to take a shot at him, then the four of us can head out there to pick him up while she and the other inspectors get Rama."

"What'd he find?"

"I don't know specifics, but he should be calling us any minute."

As he said the words, his phone rang again, so this time he answered it on speaker.

"Hey, dudes, sorry for the lag time, right?" Mulder began enthusiastically. "But check it, I'm rolling in some seriously funky shit, you know what I'm saying? I started last night, creeping through every PR I could hack, scoping out potential little Brozis, right? Oh, but then I hit the pause 'cos Cecilia Skyped me and I couldn't go split-screen…I mean I _could_, but not with _her_, you know what I'm saying? And dude, it was sweet because she…"

"Mulder," I interrupted. "As much as I'd love to hear about your new girl, we need you to focus on Brozi for the time being, okay?"

"Oh! Shit, yeah, my bad. Okay, so I was crapping out on the spawn of the Albanian devil, but then I tripped over the golden goose, right?"

"Golden goose?"

"Brozi. McClane said he's the grand poobah, right?"

"Well…yeah."

"And you can't pop him for knocking up the chicas, are you feeling me?"

"Mulder. What've you got?"

"He's running drugs," he replied simply, and I almost laughed at how he suddenly spoke plain English.

"We figured that, but there's no proof."

"You want me to zip it or lay it out?"

Bobby glanced at me and whispered, _"_Zip it?"

"Compressed file or the full megs?" Mulder said quickly, having heard Bobby's question.

"Zip it," I answered quickly. "For now. You can lay it out later."

"Shipping logs. You know, the docks? He's bringing in medical supplies, only the weight's all wrong. And he signed for the last one himself, just last week."

"He's smuggling drugs in with the supplies? That's pretty ballsy."

"It's Gates' clone, right? I'm talking Mensa-like shit. But oh, hey, did you know that Cecilia's dog is named Gates? How awesome is that? He's like…like…"

"Mulder," Bobby said.

"Right. Sorry…um…okay, so there are usually legit drugs in the shipment that can throw off the dogs, if the load gets red-lighted, right? And the real shit gets liquefied and poured into the packing material. Later, it gets pulled back out, and yahtzee, man. Gutter glitter."

I stopped at a red light and looked over at Bobby.

"We can bring him in for questioning with regards to the Cincinelli murders," I suggested. "We can get a search warrant that'll give us access to the logs Mulder's talking about…and since we know what to look for…"

"Let's do it," he agreed. Then he said, "Thanks, Mulder. Pull everything you can find, and we'll get back with you after we execute the search warrant."

"Sure thing. Oh! Hang on…shit, this is…dudes, this is gonna be…"

He trailed off and I could hear the incessant clicking of his keyboard, along with indecipherable mumbling, until he finally said, "I think I struck gold again. I'll hit you back in ten."

We hung up with him and then Bobby called Lupo to let him know our plan.

"Have Connie get started on a search warrant," I heard him say. And then he added, "And he's got body guards with guns, so let's stop outside of the gate and suit up before we go inside."

"I didn't think we'd actually be able to take Brozi down," I said after he finished with Lupo. "I mean, I knew the Albanian gang would be crippled, but this…this is huge."

"Yes, it is," he agreed. "If we take him down, I wonder who'll take over?"

"Well, I know who it _won't_ be."

Twenty minutes later, we arrived at Brozi's palatial estate, and after taking the time to put on Kevlar, we pulled into the driveway, where I pushed the button at the security gate.

"Detectives Goren and Goren with the NYPD to see Mr. Brozi," I said.

"I'm sorry. Detectives Goren and _who_?" the voice replied, completing my sense of déjà vu.

"Are you kidding me? We were here two days ago and had this same discussion. Now open the damn gate and let us in," I retorted.

"I guess we're not playing nice this time, huh?" Bobby said quietly.

"I'm so sick of this entire organization that _nice_ isn't anywhere in my vocabulary today. Or at least not right now. Maybe later, when I know they're all behind bars for the next several decades."

But considering we were sort of at the mercy of the security guard, I held my breath while I waited for the gate to open.

I mean, we could come back with a battering ram, but filling out the paperwork to requisition one of those things is such a pain in the ass.

The gate finally whirred to life, and Lupo stayed right on my bumper, following us beyond the gate and into the enemy's domain.

It took another five minutes to drive from the gate up to the house, where I parked in the circle drive. Lupo pulled up behind me, and we all got out and met in between the two cars.

"It's too quiet," Bobby commented.

"I'm with you on that one," Bernard said. "You think he's going to fight us?"

"He's been pulled in before," I pointed out. "But he's like Teflon, so us coming to pick him up shouldn't send him into a panic."

"Mulder told you about the drugs?" Lupo asked quietly.

"Yeah, and he was onto something else by the time we hung up," Bobby answered.

The four of us headed for the front steps, with me and Bobby in front, and Lupo and Bernard behind us, watching our backs.

Considering how we were surprised by Brozi the last time we here, I was glad to have the extra help.

"He knows we're here," I mumbled as I pushed the doorbell. "Why make us go through the exercise?"

"Is that _Dies Irae_?" Bernard asked in amusement as the music filled the house.

"Dies a _what_?" Lupo questioned.

"From Verdi's Requiem," Bernard explained. "The day of wrath. I like the symbolism. You think Brozi knows this is his day for judgment?"

"I think he knows we're not here to take a stroll through the gardens," I replied as I attempted to peer through the stained glass windows that framed the front door.

"NYPD," Bobby called out, thumping loudly on the door. "Open up!"

The door suddenly whipped open, and one of Brozi's henchmen was on the other side, pointing an automatic weapon at us.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked.

"For starters, you can drop the weapon," I said as all four of us took aim at the freakishly large man.

"You're trespassing," he asserted. "You've got no business here."

"We need to talk to Alek Brozi," Bobby informed him. "And unless you want to get arrested, I suggest you put down the gun."

"Arrested for what? This is private property."

"It's a crime to point a weapon at a police officer, genius," Lupo said. "And you've been asked twice."

"Veli, let them in," a voice called out.

The man glared us down for another moment and then slowly lowered his weapon. Bobby immediately holstered his own weapon as he grabbed onto the barrel of Veli's gun and then he put a hand on his chest, shoving him back against the door.

I moved into the entryway of the house, and Lupo and Bernard followed quickly behind.

"You have more questions for me, Detective? Because I thought I was pretty clear the other day when I told you that I was done talking."

I looked across the large hall to see Brozi standing in the far doorway.

"Well, maybe I'm not done talking to you. We need you to come with us."

"And if I say no?"

"Then you'll still come with us, only it'll hurt a lot more," Bernard told him.

"I don't see an arrest warrant in your hands. I've done nothing wrong."

And see, here's the bitch of it.

He's right.

I mean, he _has_ done stuff wrong, but we don't have an arrest warrant yet, and we don't have a search warrant, and he's within his rights to tell us to get the hell out of his house.

A lot of times we can bluff our way through, and people tend to comply when we ask them to come with us, but Brozi wasn't born yesterday.

Which means we might be screwed until the warrants come through.

"Hey, you weren't out of the country last week," Bobby said conversationally, still with one hand on Veli's chest, keeping him at bay.

"What?" Brozi asked.

"When we were here on Saturday, you said you were unaware of what was going on because you'd been out of the country. But you weren't. You were here. You signed for a shipment one day last week."

"Okay, you caught me," Brozi said as he grinned broadly. "I lied. I _did_ know about what was going on. And maybe it's unethical, but it's not criminal, so if that's the best you've got, then I think you need to let my man go and show yourselves out."

I know what Bobby's trying to do.

He's getting him to talk, even when he said he wasn't going to talk. Egging him on until he spouts out something useful.

But I'm not sure it's going to work in this case. Brozi's spent a lifetime on the wrong side of the law.

"Wait, so you admit that you lied?" Lupo asked suddenly.

"Are you going to tell my mother?" Brozi retorted smartly.

"No. We're going to arrest you, so turn around and put your hands behind your back," Lupo said confidently.

"Um…" I began hesitantly as Lupo pulled out his cuffs and forced the old mobster to turn around.

"Title 18 of United States Code, Section 1001 makes it a crime to make any materially false, fictitious or fraudulent statement or representation in any matter within the jurisdiction of the executive, legislative or judicial branch of the United States," Lupo stated as he slapped on the handcuffs. "And in case you want to dispute the fact that these Detectives are federal employees, let me advise you that the investigation into these crimes is a joint operation between the NYPD and the United States Marshal Service, meaning that they were acting as an agent for a federal organization despite not being part of it themselves."

I don't know if it was the night classes of law school or being married to Connie, but whichever the case, I'm liking it.

A lot.

In fact, I had a hard time wiping the smile off of my face as Lupo and Bernard hauled Brozi out of the house and down the front steps to their car.

"You, too, Veli," Bobby said as he turned the man around.

"I didn't lie," he said quickly.

"No, but this weapon is fully automatic which makes it highly illegal, so you get a free ride into Manhattan," I told him as Bobby put on the cuffs. "Along the way, you probably want to think about how important your boss is to you, and whether or not he's worth your freedom. Because _he's_ going away for a long time, but your jail time will be directly proportionate to your cooperation."

The drive back to 1PP was mostly a quiet one.

Veli asked for a lawyer before we even left the property, and Bobby and I didn't say much because…well, because we had a gangster in the backseat.

Bobby sent Mary a text to update her on our situation, and she immediately sent one back to him, which he showed to me at the next stoplight.

_**We've got Rama in custody and it went off without a hitch.**_

"This is _such_ a good day," I said quietly.

He hummed his agreement, and then his phone started ringing.

"It's Mulder," he said. "Do you want to take it, because half the time, I have no idea what he's saying."

So I answered Bobby's phone, and that was when my day got even better.

"Okay, so check it," he said eagerly. "I've been zooming the I's and O's so long that my rods and cones are wiggy, but I _knew_ I'd seen the name, you know what I'm saying?"

"No. Keep talking."

"So, okay, it's like this. I started scoping for the kiddos, right? And in the process, I pulled your Witsec chica because I was looking to see what her creds say, you know, like maybe it's a cipher, right? Or like a brand or a red flag. So then I took the path of the psycho to see what's fueling her jets, and then I switched back to the underbelly to creep the cause. And that's when it hit me."

"Mulder, _I'm_ going to hit you if you don't just spit it out."

"The doc. His name's on the shipping logs."

"Okay…"

"And he's the same one who diagnosed your girl's pregnancy."

"Wait…what?"

"I know. Sofa king, right? And he's in the hood, so I took a field trip. That's why it took me more than ten to holler back."

"You went to see him?" I asked sharply. "Mulder…"

"Dude, it was cool, right? And I _might_ have flashed my creds, and I _might_ have threatened him with prosecution and I _might_ have told him that I was going to report him to the AMA, but get this…"

"You badged him? You haven't even started working there yet! And it's not even a _badge_ badge, but an ID badge, and…"

"It's cool, right? He was freaked by the mere idea of it. I'm golden. But let me tell you what he said."

"Please."

"Get this," he said with dramatic flair. "There's no bun in the oven."

Thirty minutes later, after arriving at 1PP and processing Veli on the weapons charge, Bobby and I headed down to lock-up where Christina was still a resident.

"I can't believe she lied about it," I commented.

"Why not? She lied about everything else."

"Yeah, I know. I guess I didn't consider the magnitude of her reach. That day Mary took her to the clinic…it didn't strike me as strange at all that Christina suggested which one to go to."

"You're thinking you should've known?" he asked me gently.

"I just don't like being conned. And even though I knew she was playing us about everything else, I didn't think she was about that."

"You kind of did," he pointed out. "You noticed her lack of interest in the baby."

"True."

"And it doesn't really make any difference, does it?"

"No," I admitted. "But I just want her to know that I know."

He nodded his agreement as we rounded the corner, and then he asked, "You want me to wait for you out here?"

"Yeah. If you go in there, she'll hit on you, and then I'll have to kill her, and…well, you know how I feel about paperwork."

He chuckled at me and then glanced around quickly, and after confirming that the hall was empty, he kissed me hard.

"Did you just break the Goren rule?" I asked him with a smirk.

"That one says no boffing in the break room," he reminded me.

"Oh, that's right. I guess there was no addendum to include snogging in the hallway, huh?"

"Not yet," he said with a grin.

I squeezed his hand briefly and then turned around, heading for the cells.

"I'll be back in five," I called back over my shoulder. "And then we can give Mary the rundown, and _then_ we'll kick this whole thing back to the Marshal Service."

I opened the door and checked in with the uniformed guard, and then walked over to Christina's cell.

"You again," she said sharply. "I'm done with you."

"Trust me, the feeling's mutual," I agreed.

"Where's the princess? On her knees in the mayor's office?"

I chuckled humorlessly, shaking my head as I said, "Not bitter at all, are you?"

"About what? Her?"

"She outsmarted you. Does it piss you off that she's better looking than you _and_ more intelligent? Is that why you like to try to paint her in a bad light?"

"I just call it like I see it," she said with a shrug. "So did you come down here to talk about the princess or is there something else? Maybe you want to see what I can do for you? Just because she wasn't interested…"

"Oh, I'm not interested either. But I do have a question."

"Knock yourself out."

"What kind of sexual favor did you have to do to get the doctor to fake your medical record?"

She stared at me blankly for a moment, but then she sat down on the cot and said casually, "He was easy. Most men are because they let their dicks do the thinking."

"And yet you try to disparage Detective Hayes," I pointed out. "And you _are_ wrong about her, but if you weren't…what's the difference between what you do and what you're accusing her of?"

"Nothing," she said with a smile. "Except that I'm honest with myself about what I do. I don't try to pretend that Derek killed for me because he wanted to…he did it because I was fucking him and I'm damn good at it. And Demachi…he didn't share secrets because I'm a nice person. He divulged information after I let him and his friend have a turn with me. And see, they think _they're_ the ones in control. But I got what I wanted, so who's really in control?"

"Me, actually," I said, tapping my hand against the bars. "Because I'm the one with the key."

"Ha. Good point. Okay, so…no, I'm not pregnant. Does that make you happy?"

"Actually, yes. Now I won't worry about an innocent child being born in prison."

"My father would've raised it."

"Brozi? Um…no. But you might be able to coordinate a Rikers Island father-daughter picnic."

"You arrested him?"

"He's a criminal, just like you."

"Well…we'll see what sticks," she said challengingly. "I don't plan on being in here for long. And you know, there are a lot of good-looking lawyers…judges…"

"I'll be sure to recommend that you're assigned a female prosecutor then," I said. "And judge."

"Women aren't immune to me. Look at Anna. And if you want to stick around for five more minutes, I bet I can bring you around to my way of thinking, too."

"Some other time, maybe," I said as I turned to leave. Then I paused and said, "Oh, and you know, Detective Hayes was right."

"Princess? About what?"

"You _do_ look like you've gained more than two pounds," I said. I let my eyes wander over her critically and then I flashed her a smile and added, "And now that I know you're not pregnant…"

I trailed off, and then continued walking towards the exit.

"Sleep tight, Detective. I'll be out soon, and we'll catch up."

Is it wrong of me to hope that she's right?

Because if she _does_ get out and then makes any kind of move on me or Bobby…or any one of us…well, let's just say it'll be the last thing she'll ever do.

I've got a .45 with her name on it.

I looked over my shoulder one last time and promised, "I'm looking forward to it."

TBC...


	107. Chapter 107

**Liz POV**

* * *

><p>"Out."<p>

"But…"

"Go on."

"Liz…"

"Jeremy, there's no reason in the world for you to want to hang around while a bunch of women drink tequila and trade girl talk."

"Seriously? Are you kidding me?"

I laughed and shook my head at the hopeful expression on his face.

The long-awaited girls' night was taking place at my house again, since I have plenty of room, and everyone was set to arrive within the hour.

"_Grown_ women," I reminded him. "Who are all much older than you."

"Is that hot inspector going to be here?"

"I'm guessing you mean Jennifer, since you know Mary's name, and yes, she'll be here while her _boyfriend,_ the district attorney, is playing poker with your father."

"Okay, fine. I'll go," he groused. "But you're losing coolness points here, Liz."

"I had some to spare."

"You wish," he fired back good-naturedly.

"Uh huh. And since your lingo has reminded me of Mulder, why aren't you hanging out with him? It's Friday night."

"He's busy."

"Doing what?"

Jeremy broke into a grin and then crossed his arms in front of his chest as he leaned back against the kitchen counter.

"I'll tell you if you let me stay."

"No deal. I'll just call him myself."

"Liz…"

"You can stay until they get here," I bargained. "And then you have to go."

"Sweet. Okay, so get this…he took the train to Beantown."

"He did? You mean, to see Cecilia?" I asked in surprise.

Because I've spoken with her a couple of times this week, and she didn't mention it.

Although she _did_ talk a lot about him so maybe she was reaffirming her decision by fishing for my opinion of him.

"_Is he as nice as he seems? Or is it an act_?" she asked me when she called Wednesday night.

"_There's no acting with him._"

"_I didn't think so, but you know…you just never know. You'd be surprised at what some men will do just to make it look like they have a soul_."

"_I've met a few like that in my time, but trust me…that's not Mulder. So you had a good time with him Sunday afternoon?"_

"_I did,"_ she answered. "_And we've Skyped a few times. He's really…different, you know? But in a good way."_

We talked a little longer that day, but like I said, she didn't mention that he was going up to see her.

Not that she's under any obligation to tell me everything.

"Uh huh," Jeremy said with a grin, and then he waggled his eyebrows at me and added, "He's going up there a boy, and coming back a man."

"Jeremy…"

"I'm serious. She asked him to stay at her place."

And why in the world does that worry me when Mulder is a twenty-four year old man, and no relation to me whatsoever?

Because it just does.

"I hope Lupo talked with him," I said, more to myself than to Jeremy.

"Oh, he did. Mulder told me. Something about a laptop being better than a cell phone? I don't know. But he's good."

"_Good_ good? As in, better than you were when you first got adventurous?"

"He's got condoms," he replied, rolling his eyes at me. "Yeah, I shared the scary STD story with him, okay? He's golden."

"Okay," I said uneasily. "Did you share that story with Aaron, too?"

"Yes, Mom," he said teasingly. "All of your boys will practice safe sex, okay?"

"I'm hoping there's not much practicing going on," I commented.

"Not lately, no, but see, if you let me have a few minutes with the inspector, I might be able to show her the error of her ways."

"Meaning…that she _shouldn't_ be dating a handsome, successful, intelligent, and kind man who's within a few years of her age?"

"Sheesh, when you say it like that…"

"Uh huh. So what kind of trouble are you going to get into tonight without your wingman?"

"He said I can hang at his place, since you're using the house," he answered.

"You could try to make some friends," I suggested.

"I've got friends," he argued. "They're just all…old."

"Okay, I'm heading out," Danny said as he came into the kitchen. He paused when he saw Jeremy and said, "You're still here? I figured you'd be out somewhere by now."

"I keep trying to kick him out," I remarked.

"You want to play poker?"

"Really?" Jeremy asked him.

"Yeah, we need one more to even it up, so if you've got the cash…"

"Give me five minutes," Jeremy said as he sprinted out of the kitchen. I could hear him thundering up the stairs and down the hall to his room.

"You're going to take him to a poker game?" I questioned. "I can't imagine the conversation there is age-appropriate. Not to mention the cigar-smoking and the drinking…"

"He's almost twenty years old, Liz."

"I know, but…"

"You're the one who keeps reminding me that he's a man."

"I know," I said on a sigh. "Oh, did you know that Mulder went up to Boston tonight?"

"To see Cecilia," he answered with a grin. "I heard."

"And yet you didn't tell me?"

"I just heard this afternoon," he amended. "Lupo was talking about it."

"Ready," Jeremy said as he burst back into the room. "Oh, and Dad, you should really keep an eye on that lawyer guy, because you should've heard Liz talking about him…saying he's so handsome and successful and smart…"

"Goodbye, Jeremy," I said.

"Yeah, it almost sounds like maybe she has a crush on him or something," he continued teasingly.

"I'm going to kiss your father now, so you can either hang around, or…"

That did the trick to get him out of the room, and I turned around to find Danny smirking at me.

"Handsome? Are we talking about Mike Cutter?"

"I was defending Jennifer's choice to date him," I explained. "I didn't mean I wanted him for me. Personally, I'm partial to the handsome and successful chief of D's…"

I grabbed onto his shirt and pulled him to me, kissing him with unabashed purpose, intentionally setting off sparks between us, knowing that we'd see it through later on.

"I'm not sure I want to play poker anymore," he said as he brought his hand up to my cheek. "I could blow it off and we can…"

He trailed off as he brought his lips to mine again, and I wasn't anywhere near ready to be done when Jeremy called out from the other room.

"Liz! Lauren's here!"

"I guess that's my cue," Danny said as he slowly pulled back. "But when I get home…"

"Oh yeah. We'll do more of that," I agreed.

I led the way out of the kitchen to the foyer where Jeremy was talking to Lauren.

"I'm sorry," she said immediately. "I'm early."

"You're fine. I was just kicking them out of the house," I told her. I gave Danny one more quick kiss and then ran my hand over Jeremy's head and said, "Don't lose all your money."

It took me five more minutes to get them out the door, since both father and son felt the urge to brag about their poker-playing prowess.

"Have you ever?" I asked, chuckling and shaking my head as I led Lauren back into the kitchen.

"Actually, yes," she replied. "B was doing the same thing when I left."

"I guess it's a guy thing," I said with a shrug. I picked up two of the shot glasses that I'd set out on the table and I poured us each a generous amount of tequila and then I handed one to Lauren and said, "So…are we drinking to your first week at Major Case?"

"Sure," she said, although she had a smile on her face that made me a little bit suspicious.

"Or…are we drinking to something else?"

"No, that works."

"Uh huh," I replied skeptically. "So how are things with you and Bernard?"

"Great. You know, Jeremy looks good. After everything he went through, he seems to have bounced back really well. And he stayed out of trouble all week at 1PP."

"Yes, he did. And yes he does. Now tell me what's going on."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, picking up the bottle and refilling our shot glasses, her expression still one of feigned nonchalance.

"Wait until Alex gets here," I told her. "Then you're coming clean whether you like it or not."

And as I said the words, there was a knock on the door, followed by the sound of Alex calling out.

"Liz?"

"In the kitchen!" I answered.

A moment later, the room was filled with activity as Alex and Carolyn had to quickly drink two shots each to catch up to me and Lauren, and then we poured a third for all four of us.

"Maybe we should wait, because we might scare Jennifer off if she comes in and has to kill a bottle just to catch up," Carolyn suggested.

"Challenge her," Alex said. "She won't back down. And I want to hear about what she's got going on with Cutter anyway."

"Well, _I_ know, but I'm not saying," Lauren spoke up.

"She talked to you about him?"

"We've been running together," she explained.

"Oh, so maybe she knows what's going on with _you_," I said pointedly.

"Nice try, Liz."

"What's going on with you?" Alex asked her.

"Guys, it's nothing," she said firmly. "Everything is great."

"Well, you definitely did a nice job with Christina on Monday," Alex said, seemingly changing the subject, but I know her.

She'll come back to it.

"I'm sorry I missed it," Carolyn said.

"Me, too," I agreed.

"Well, I'm not sorry your husband missed it," Lauren said to me.

"Why? What happened?"

"Not much," Alex said as she bit back laughter. "Princess here got accused of blowing the boss, that's all."

"That Christina sure is a class act," Carolyn said with heavy sarcasm.

"Yeah, well, I think I pissed her off by telling her she was putting on weight," Lauren explained.

"That'll do it," I agreed. "So what's her story? Off to the big house?"

"Uh huh. Bailey sold her out to save himself, and even though he claimed not to know much, he knew enough to help us put everything together," Alex said. "Christina's going away for life. Brozi, too. And Demachi…Rama…Marco…"

"Too bad there's no one left to run the show," Lauren said glibly.

"I'm just glad to be done with it," Alex remarked. "Although a new case would be nice. Bobby and I have been desk-bound for four days now."

"Nothing to do but sit and stare at each other all day. How can you stand it?" I joked.

"We'll survive."

The doorbell rang, so I went into the other room to answer it.

Jennifer and Connie.

I've only met the inspector a couple of times, but I bypassed the formalities in an effort to hopefully make her feel more at home.

"Five shots down, ladies. Come in and get busy."

"Um…five shots?" Jennifer asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, you know, Alex said that might be too much for you to handle, so if you want to just sip on some lemonade instead…"

"Set 'em up," she replied.

I opened the door to the kitchen and caught the tail end of something Carolyn was saying.

"And then she said, _that's okay, honey – I was talking to your wife_!"

Alex and Lauren erupted into laughter and Lauren asked, "What did you say?"

"I told her that I only sleep with women as part of a ménage a trois, and if she wanted to reconsider _including_ Mike, then…"

"Seriously?" Lauren exclaimed.

"She did not," Alex said, still laughing as she shook her head.

"Okay, so no, I didn't," Carolyn admitted with a grin. Then she looked over at us and said, "I was just filling them in on a proposition I got from a suspect this week."

"A ménage a trois?" Connie questioned.

"We declined," Carolyn assured her.

"So you've never…"

"Wow, are we starting already?" Alex asked. "Because I don't think I'm there yet."

"I'm _sure_ I'm not there," Jennifer said.

"That's because you haven't caught up yet," Connie said as she handed Jennifer one of the shot glasses. "You _do_ drink tequila, right?"

"I don't like it as much as bourbon, but…yeah."

I waited while she tossed back the shot, and then I said, "Okay, so give us the dirt on the counselor."

"She doesn't have to go first," Lauren objected. "She's new."

"Okay," I agreed. "You go first. Why do you look like you're about to burst at the seams?"

"I had a good week," she answered casually. "SVU caught the rapist who copycatted Flowers' MO, and Connie was able to establish a connection between that guy and Schmenke."

"Mulder helped," Connie deflected.

"Uh huh. And now if all goes as it should, Flowers will stay in prison for life, and Schmenke will get disbarred."

"And he'll get prison time," Connie added. "For soliciting the rape."

"Wait a minute," Alex said. "Flowers' attorney paid a guy to rape a woman in order to give his client reasonable doubt?"

"I knew he was a slime ball from the first time I spoke with him," Connie said. "I can't wait to see how he fares in prison."

"Does it make me a bad person that I hope he's really popular?" Lauren asked.

"Not at all," I assured her as I refilled her glass.

I put my hand on her shoulder in a gesture of silent support, squeezing it briefly before moving on to pour shots for the others.

"So…moving on," Lauren said, looking over at Alex. "What's this I hear about you and Bobby in the elevator at the Millennium?"

"Oh my God," she muttered, "I'm going to kill Mary."

"Mary's not the one who told me," Lauren replied with a smile.

"Then who?" Alex asked, and then Lauren purposefully shifted her gaze over to Carolyn, and Alex rolled her eyes and said, "I should've known John would tell Mike."

"He couldn't resist," Carolyn said with a grin. "Because what is it that you told him? Don't do the crime if you can't do the time?"

"Ha ha," Alex retorted, although she was laughing, too.

"Besides, you would've told us about it tonight, anyway."

"That's true," she conceded.

"So you guys…in the elevator?" Jennifer asked her.

"They have a thing for public places," I explained. "Don't ever sneak up on them or you might get more than you bargain for."

"You're one to talk," Alex said. "Poor Jeremy still has nightmares."

We all laughed at that for a minute, and then Lauren looked at Jennifer and said, "You'd better catch up because I think it's about time for you to tell everyone how you've had your hands all over Mike's…bat."

"Nice euphemism, Lauren," Connie said with a smile. "Yeah, drink up, Jenn."

"It's not a euphemism," she argued, although her face was flushed. "We went to the batting cage and hit baseballs."

"And then you went back to his place and put your hands on his bat?" Alex asked her, causing another round of laughter.

"No, we actually established a two-week no-sex rule," she confessed.

"Why on earth would you do that?" I asked her.

"I like sex," she said with a shrug. "And so does he. We figured it would be a good idea to make sure we like each other _without_ having sex before we jump into bed."

"Although that's not really true, is it?" Lauren asked with a knowing smile.

"Well, technically, I have slept in his bed," Jennifer admitted. "But only for two nights…and we spent one night on his couch. But that was so that I wouldn't have to live at the safe house, and Monday night, I was back at my own place, so…"

"I like sex," Carolyn said simply. "And I sure as hell didn't wait two weeks."

"No, you waited two and a half years," Alex told her.

"I mean, after I finally told him how I felt," she clarified, nudging Alex in the arm.

"How long did you wait then?" Lauren questioned.

"It was three…no, probably more like two…yeah, two hours."

"Hours?" Connie asked on a laugh. "And I thought I was bad!"

"You _are_ bad," Alex told her. "First date…poor Lupo."

"Somehow I'm not feeling all that sorry for Lupo," I said. "And you know, I think we need an update on you, Lauren. The last get-together we had, you confessed that you'd kissed Bernard, but I'm sure you've got more to add by now."

"That's right," Carolyn said with a grin. "You've now test-driven a man in his forties."

"You make it sound so tawdry," Lauren said teasingly, and then she took a moment to pour herself another drink.

"Men in their forties?" Jennifer asked. "Is that supposed to be something impressive?"

"If you have to ask, you've obviously never had one," Alex replied.

"No," she agreed. "I'm only twenty-eight."

"Well, that's just annoying," I stated.

"_And_ Mike's only thirty-five," Connie pointed out.

"Right. And I haven't had him…yet," she stated. "But I _am_ hoping to keep him around for a while, so I guess it'll be five years before I get to test out your theory."

"Oh, it's not a theory," Carolyn said. "It's a fact."

"I'm going to have to agree," Lauren said thoughtfully. "You know, it only took us two days to christen every room in his apartment. And tonight, before I came over here, we…"

"You know, this is not helping," Jennifer interrupted as she reached for the bottle. "I've still got another day to go, and listening to you guys talk about your sex lives…"

"Only one more day?" I asked her.

"We decided to count from the night we met," she explained. "Sunday night, almost two weeks ago. It's kind of cheating, but not really."

"So…you only have to make it to Saturday," Alex said.

"That's right," Jennifer agreed before tossing back the shot. "And twenty-four hours is a long damn time after a solid week of foreplay, you know what I'm saying?"

"No, I think you need to elaborate a little more," Carolyn said with a smirk.

"No, you don't," Connie said. "I mean, he's my boss, so this is starting to feel a little weird for me."

Her comment was met with a chorus of outbursts coming from Alex and Carolyn and Lauren.

"Please!" Lauren stated. "How much have we heard about the chief's sex life? You were here the last time for that Catskills discussion."

"_And_ when Liz talked about the two of them out on the balcony," Alex added.

"What can I say? We have an active sex life," I said unrepentantly.

"We won't begrudge you that," Carolyn said. "Our point is that if we have to hear about _our_ boss, then she gets to hear the juicy details about _her_ boss."

"I never said I was going to cough up juicy details," Jennifer countered.

"Oh, but you are," Alex told her. "And start with this bat incident."

"Well," Jennifer began hesitantly, and then she smiled broadly and said, "He has a _really_ nice bat."

Our laughter nearly drowned out the sound of the doorbell, but not quite, so I got up from the table and went to answer the door while the others started in on a Q and A session about Jennifer and Mike.

"Better late than never, Inspector," I said when I opened the door to find Mary on the other side.

"I was hoping you'd say that. Sorry. I got held up."

"Uh huh. And is John late for the poker game, too?"

"It's possible," she replied vaguely. "You want to lead the way to the liquor? Because I think I might have done something really, really stupid."

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"I'd rather only tell it once, if you don't mind."

So we headed for the kitchen, and could clearly hear the conversation as we approached.

"Wait, Mike said _that_?" Connie asked in surprise.

"And you _still_ managed to hold off?" Alex added. "Color me impressed. If Bobby had something like that to me, I would've been all over him."

"Who are you trying to kid? You're _always_ all over him," Carolyn said.

"Yeah, now. I'm just saying…_before_."

"Look who I found," I interrupted as I pushed open the kitchen door.

"It's about time," Jennifer said, and it was nice to see that she'd relaxed considerably and was able to tease, although I guess since she and Mary are partners, she's more comfortable around her than the rest of us.

"Ease up, Austin. It's been a day," Mary said with her typical sour expression.

"You were off. What are you bitching about?"

"She might have done something stupid," I explained. "So I'm going to pour her a drink and then she's going to tell us all about it."

"Please tell me this doesn't have something to do with John," Carolyn said.

"Are you getting cold feet?" Alex asked her.

"Ladies. Drink first. Then conversation," Mary stated.

I handed her a glass and she surprised me by sniffing it first. That's definitely not a Mary-thing to do since I've never seen her turn down any type of liquor, ever.

"What is this?" she asked me.

"Patron," I answered in confusion. "Why?"

"Well, I just…" she began as she stared down at the liquid.

"Mary, what is it?" Alex asked in concern.

And then Mary looked up at all of us, and the smile on her face was enough to light up the room.

"I'm wondering if this stuff is high-class enough for me. You know, now that I'm Mrs. John Strathmore."

TBC...


	108. Chapter 108

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>"Are you kidding me?"<p>

"I'm not, but wait…it gets better," I said, pausing dramatically before finishing the story.

I lit up a cigar and then sat back in the chair and said, "When I told her I wasn't interested, she said, _that's okay, honey – I was talking to your wife_!"

Bobby started laughing, but Jeremy and Ross only stared at me slack-jawed.

"Wait, so you thought the murder suspect was propositioning you, and it turned out that she was hitting on Carolyn?" Ross asked me in amazement.

"Uh huh," I said with a nod.

"I'm not sure which part of that disturbs me more," Ross said, shaking his head.

"Yeah, but was she _hot_?" Jeremy asked, and I can appreciate his interest.

I mean, obviously he's trying to picture the suggested girl-on-girl action, but these aren't just two random women.

One of them is my wife.

And if he thinks I'm going to help along his little fantasy that _includes_ my wife, he's got another thing coming.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, J-man," I said.

"Why, that's where yours always is," Bobby remarked in amusement as he sat down next to me.

"Hey, for the record, I didn't even attempt to imagine that woman naked."

Why would I?

She wasn't Carolyn.

I haven't been interested in picturing another woman naked since the day she walked back into my life.

"You've come such a long way," Ross said with a smirk.

"I know. Thank you," I quipped. Then I looked at Bobby and added, "And if you think Jeremy's question was so innocent, then why don't you fill him in on the time Alex got propositioned by that NYU student."

"You mean when Carolyn had to rescue us from a threesome?" he reminded me with a grin. "Yeah, I think your wife kissed me that night."

"Uh huh. Well, I've kissed your wife, too, so…"

"Guys, I really don't want to hear about the swapping that goes on between the four of you," Bernard said, coming into the room in time to catch our last couple of statements.

"I do," Jeremy stated.

I rolled my eyes at him and then joked with Bernard, saying, "What, you're not interested in a trade?"

"No," he answered quickly.

"I'm not sure how to take that," I replied.

"Take it exactly as I meant it. I've already got my hands full," Bernard answered with a satisfied smile.

"Miss Minnesota," Bobby stated teasingly.

"Yeah, I heard about that," I said. "So Bernard…does she wear the tiara to bed?"

"Why don't you ask her that, Logan? You're probably about due for an ass-whipping."

"Long _over_due," Ross asserted.

"Hey, B! What happened to your rug?" Lupo called out from the living room.

"Nothing. Why?"

"It looks a little…I don't know. Crooked. Like it's flatter on one side than it is on the other."

"Why don't you quit trying to be a detective and come in here and play cards?" Bernard responded.

"So what's the scoop with the rug?" I asked him quietly, just to see if I could get under his skin a little more.

"It's a cheap rug," he said with a shrug.

"No, it's not," Bobby countered.

"Bobby's right," John said. "It's a Vincent Wolfe."

"Hey, are we playing poker or are we taping an episode of _Cribs_?" Bernard asked us in feigned annoyance.

"Are they always like this?" Mike Cutter asked Bernard as he sat down, having come in from the kitchen with a new bottle of Scotch.

"It's turnabout," Lupo answered, coming in from the living room to join us at the table. "You should've heard the ribbing he used to give us, when he was the last unattached man at the table."

"I guess that's you now, huh, Counselor?" I posed.

And yeah, I've heard from Mary that he's got his sights set on Jennifer, but I figure that it's probably his turn to sway in the breeze for a little while.

Besides, I'm curious to see how he holds up.

I've spent some time not liking him, strictly on Lupo's behalf, so now that the two of them seem good with each other, I'm kind of starting from scratch.

"I wouldn't exactly say that," he replied.

"So things are going well with the inspector," Bobby said. "I haven't seen much of her since we closed the case on Monday."

"How about you?" I asked, lowering my voice a little as I pinned Cutter with a pointed stare. "How much of her have _you_ seen?"

"You don't have to answer that," Ross said, chucking me with his elbow as he leaned over to take the lighter that was sitting in front of me.

"Sure he does," I argued.

"We're dating," Cutter answered vaguely, sounding a little bit like a reluctant witness. "That's it."

And yeah, now I'm sure there's more to his story, but he's a poker night virgin, so I figured I'd let it go for now.

"I'll bet you a hundred dollars that she's telling a different story," Lupo said with a grin, obviously thinking along the same line as me. "They get started on that tequila, and there's no such thing as a secret."

"They aren't that bad," Bernard countered.

"Sure they are," I said. "You know how fast that story about me in Rio got around."

"The naked drainpipe descent," Bobby said in amusement. "Yeah, that was a classic. Although I'm not sure there was any liquor involved when that one came out. It was just too good not to share."

"Uh…should I ask?" Jeremy questioned.

"No," Ross answered

"Okay, so we were out on the balcony, right?" I said to Jeremy, ignoring the chief. Because really, he invited him here to let him be one of the men, right? "We managed to lock ourselves out of our hotel room, and neither of us had any clothes, so I had to climb down the drainpipe and go up to the front desk to get another key."

"Naked?" Jeremy clarified as he stared at me in amazement while the others started chuckling, even the ones who'd already heard the story.

"Sure. It was no big deal," I added with a shrug.

"I had no idea you're such an exhibitionist," Cutter remarked as he shuffled the cards.

"You should try it some time," I told him. "You and your inspector."

"Going to Rio?"

"Spending some time on a balcony. Naked," I clarified, although it was interesting that he didn't seem opposed to the idea of Rio. But instead of pointing that out, I looked over at Ross and added, "Isn't that right, boss? Naked balcony time is always good."

"Okay, now we can change the subject," Jeremy said quickly.

"You're either in or you're not, J-man," I said. "You can't half-ass it."

"If I'm in, then pass me one of those cigars," he said, holding out his hand.

I glanced over at Ross, who gave me a slight nod, and then I handed the kid a Royal Corona, courtesy of Mike Cutter.

"No puking at the table," Lupo warned him.

"Hey, I've smoked cigars before. I'm almost twenty. Think about what you guys were doing when you were my age."

Yikes.

I'm _really_ sure I don't want to be thinking about that at all.

My life at forty-five is just so much better.

I never would've guessed that, either. I mean, usually people expect that it starts going downhill after a point, but that's not the case with me.

Marrying Carolyn would've been enough.

Seriously.

If it were just me and her, living out our lives together, I'd be happy.

But now with such good friends…and Shane O'Connor...

That one really blows my mind.

He's been so…_open_ to the idea of extending his family to include not just me, but Carolyn, John, Bobby…everyone who means something to me.

He went back to Boston Tuesday night, since it seemed as though the threat was over, and Wednesday morning, I got a call from his wife.

My aunt.

"_I want you to come for a visit, okay_?" she asked me, skipping right over any kind of awkward formality.

"_Yes, ma'am,"_ I answered.

"_Soon. Don't let it be one of those things that you say yes to and then two months go by and I still haven't seen hide nor hair of you, am I making myself clear? I know you have a job that keeps you busy, but you can spare a weekend day to make the trip to meet your family, right?"_

"_Yes, ma'am,"_ I said again, too dumbfounded to say much of anything else.

"_Good. It's settled then. This weekend or next."_

As it turns out, we're going this weekend.

Bobby and Alex are going to drive up with us.

"_It'll be Sunday before our apartment is ready for us to move back in anyway_," Alex said practically.

"_You don't have to make an eight-hour round trip_," I argued lightly. "_You know that John's not in any hurry for you to check out of the Millennium. Although, maybe he is, since you turned his elevator into a…"_

"_Mike,_" she interrupted.

"_What?"_

"_We'll go with you. Thanks for inviting us."_

And even though her words were simple, her tone was poignant and damn if that wasn't Alex's equivalent of something extremely sappy and emotional, and it hit me really hard just how much I love her.

Of course, I didn't say that.

"_Well, someone has to keep an eye on you two_," I said gruffly. "_And no one else seems to want the job."_

"_Lucky us,"_ she stated meaningfully.

More like lucky me, but I wasn't going to argue with her.

So anyway, tomorrow morning, the four of us are heading north. I'd invited John and Mary to come along, too, but he was noncommittal.

"_Can I get back to you? I mean, I'd love to, but I'm not sure about…other…things." _

That was Thursday morning, and I didn't talk to him again until tonight.

And of course, _now_ I know why he was evasive.

It's because he was planning to sweep Mary off of her feet and get her to marry him sooner rather than later.

"_I don't get it_," Ross said after John made his announcement.

"_She said yes almost two weeks ago_," John pointed out. "_Why are you surprised?"_

"_Because. You went behind her back and set up a meeting with a mobster."_

"_Mike's uncle," _John reasoned.

"_Mike's uncle is a mobster?" _Cutter interrupted.

"_Shane O'Connor," _Bobby said with a nod._ "John met with him to get him to help with the…um…interrogation of the Albanians."_

"_I'm not sure I should be listening to this," _Cutter said.

"_The DA's badge has to stay at the door on poker night," _Ross told him._ "Trust me. That's where my chief's hat stays, too."_

"_So what happens at poker night stays at poker night?" _Jeremy questioned with a grin.

"_Exactly," _I agreed._ "Why, do you have something you want to confess?"_

"_No. Just because the chief's hat stayed at the door doesn't mean the dad hat did."_

"_Anyway," _Ross said pointedly, looking curiously at Jeremy before turning back to John._ "When you met with O'Connor, you didn't know he was Mike's uncle."_

"_That's true. But these guys trusted him, so I figured I could, too. I explained that to Mary."_

"_And what about the part where you set yourself up as bait? And how you only told Bobby and Alex about your secret, instructing them to keep Mary in the dark…and then you got shot at…am I missing anything?"_

"_You're missing the part about her being an understanding woman,"_ John said as he casually sipped on his Scotch.

"_Uh huh. I'm not buying it_," I said. _"I'm going to have to reassert Alex's question from the other night. How in the hell did you defuse the Mary bomb?"_

"_Very, very carefully,"_ he said ambiguously. "_And then I romanced her until she couldn't say no."_

"_Are you taking notes, Jeremy_?" I asked. "_When you date a hard-headed woman, she actually likes it when you stand up to her."_

"_And the hard-headed ones are the keepers,"_ Bobby added. "_Just…don't tell Alex I said that."_

"Seven-card stud," Bernard declared as he started dealing the cards. "It's on you, Logan."

We all anted up, and I picked up my hand, glancing at them briefly before tossing another five into the pot.

"So are you guys taking a honeymoon?" Ross asked John.

"Not really. Not yet, anyway. She can't exactly take time off when she's only been here for two weeks."

"But you're flying her to Nassau in the morning," I pointed out.

"Well…yeah. Just for the weekend," he said casually.

"Must be nice," Jeremy remarked. "The Bahamas for the weekend? Flying down on your own plane?"

"You might want to rethink being a detective then," Bobby told him. "Because you'll never do that on a civil servant's salary."

"Nah, I wouldn't know what to do with that kind of money anyway," Jeremy deflected.

"And you guys are going up to Boston, right?" John said to me.

"First thing, unless Carolyn's too hung over," I answered.

"It'll more likely be you who's hung over," Bobby said. "She can hold her liquor just fine."

"Mulder's in Boston," Jeremy spoke up.

"Yes, he is," Lupo said, and he sounded a lot more concerned than Jeremy. He pulled out his phone, like he was thinking about sending a text.

"Leave the boy alone, Lupes," Bernard said on a chuckle. "He doesn't need to be thinking about you right now."

"Yeah, talk about your mood killer," I added with a grin.

"And he's twenty-four," Jeremy said. "He'll be _fine_."

"Twenty-four. Wow," Cutter remarked. "You know, Jenn's only twenty-eight."

"Seriously?" Jeremy asked with interest.

"Which is still too old for you," Ross said.

"Not to mention the fact that she's taken," Cutter added as he stared at Jeremy, more with curiosity than any kind of anger, but I had to stir things up.

"I don't know, Counselor. I mean, you said you were dating, but you were pretty noncommittal about it."

He shifted his gaze to me, but he just _looked,_ as though he couldn't think of what he wanted to say, and Lupo started laughing.

"You rendered a lawyer mute, Logan. Impressive."

"He has that effect on people," Bobby said. "You know, that's what Carolyn was saying last night when she was in bed with me and Alex…"

He trailed off as the others started laughing, but I just took a long pull on my cigar, not bothered at all by his teasing.

That's what this night is about.

Unwinding and giving each other a hard time, just for laughs.

"You'd better watch what you say, Bobby," John warned, biting back a smile. "You might end up with a horse head in your bed."

I barked out a laugh, not expecting the mob joke, but loving it all the same.

"That's right. You never know what I'll do," I agreed, trying to look menacing but not quite pulling it off, so instead I grinned and stated, "But for now, I'll just kick your ass in poker."

"Doubtful," Bobby replied challengingly.

"Or not," I said as I laid down my cards triumphantly. "Full house. Beat that."

TBC...


	109. Chapter 109

**Mary POV**

* * *

><p>"You got married? When?"<p>

"Last night," I said, answering the barrage of identical questions.

I can't blame them for being surprised.

I'm pretty damn surprised myself.

And happy.

Very, very happy.

But still surprised.

"He rented out the Hudson Sky Terrace," I told them.

"Oh, so…he just…rented one of the hottest rooftop bars in the city…on the spur of the moment," Jennifer said in amazement.

"_Billion_aire," Alex said to her. "Remember?"

"I know, it's just…wow."

Wow is kind of how I feel about it, too.

I thought we were going up there for dinner and drinks, but when we got to the fifteenth floor terrace, it was just me and him and a couple of discreet servers.

The trees in the garden area were decorated with lights, and there was an incredible view of the Hudson River, and after sipping champagne and watching a ship make its way toward the harbor, John took my hand and said, "_It's not London, but what do you think?"_

And I'd known it was coming…or at least, I did when I realized that we had the place to ourselves.

But still…my stomach was doing flip-flops.

I mean, I just can't figure out how I got so lucky.

What in the world does he see in me?

Why would he possibly want to commit to spending the rest of his life with me?

Not that I believe in happily ever after or anything, but I get the feeling that _he_ does.

And of course, I'm not taking this commitment lightly, either.

I honestly never thought it was possible to love someone as much as I love him.

"_Mary_," he continued, since I had yet to respond. "_Will you marry me tonight?_"

"_Why, does our waiter moonlight as a Justice of the Peace?" _I replied nervously, falling back on my smartass tendencies.

"_No, but Judge Whitmore's a sucker for romance_."

And apparently, so am I because at that moment, he could've asked me to do absolutely anything, and I would've said yes.

And yet my doubts weren't completely gone…

"_You really want to do this? I mean, you're sure? Because if we get married and then you end up hating me and want a divorce…"_

"_I've never been more sure of anything in my life,"_ he interrupted.

"That's got to be about the most romantic thing I've ever heard," Liz commented after I told them the story. "So then…you just did it right then and there?"

"He called the judge, and she said it would take her about an hour to get there, so we had dinner, and then…yeah, right there on the edge of the roof. I'm still kind of surprised that he didn't just jump instead of saying _I do_, but…"

"Wow. Mary Shannon. Married," Alex said, shaking her head. "I never thought I'd see the day."

"You and me both," I agreed. And then I held up my glass so that Liz could pour me another shot and I added, "But it's Mary Strathmore now. I decided to take his name. I mean, what the hell? People here barely know me anyway, so why not?"

"Congratulations," Carolyn said as she came over to give me a hug. "You know, I knew you'd never hold out until next spring, but I didn't think you'd do it this fast."

"I had money on last Sunday," Alex said. "You made me lose a bet with Bobby."

"Wait, let me guess. The payment was sex in an elevator," Liz joked.

"Oh, which reminds me," I said as I reached into my pocket and pulled out a DVD. "I've got a little keepsake for you."

"Are you kidding me?" Alex asked, and I can't help but enjoy the fact that her face flushed just a little.

"Is that their sex tape?" Jennifer asked.

"Okay, I think we need to see this," Carolyn said as she plucked the DVD from my hand.

"Over my dead body," Alex argued, grabbing the disk back from Carolyn before she could get away. "Although, thank you, Mary. I'll add it to our collection."

"You have a collection?" Connie asked.

"Well, we have pictures," she amended.

"Ah, yes…the pictures," Liz said with a grin.

"Pictures?" I asked.

"I think it's time for another round and a new topic of conversation," Alex said firmly. "Unless you want to tell us how you spent your day today."

"Sure. I spent the day in bed with my new husband. Any other questions?"

"I have one," Liz said. "Lauren, why are you so quiet? You know, you still haven't told us what's going on with you."

"Nothing," she said with a shrug. "I just…I actually knew about Mary, and I didn't want to spoil her surprise, so I figured it was best not to say anything at all."

"You knew?" I asked her.

"I ran into the judge this morning," she explained. "I guess she remembers that you and I are friends from Connie and Lupo's wedding…she just talked about how beautiful it was, and how much she enjoys doing weddings."

"She's certainly gotten her workout from our group," Alex commented. "That makes four now, right?"

"Uh huh. That just leaves you and Bernard," Carolyn said to Lauren. "And Jennifer and Mike."

"Yeah, Austin…how are things with the counselor?" I asked her.

And I mostly know how things are, but I wanted to put her on the hot seat for a bit. That's the best way to get over being the new guy, and it sounded like I interrupted a good conversation about her and Mike when I came into the kitchen and made my announcement.

"Well, we're not getting married any time soon," Jennifer said quickly.

"Right. Because you haven't tried out the merchandise yet," Alex said with a smirk.

"Because I'm not planning on getting married," my partner clarified, and her statement caused most everyone in the room to start laughing.

"What?" she asked defensively.

"I'm pretty sure that's the exact same thing that every one of us married women said before we did the deed," Carolyn told her. "But you know, when you meet the right guy…you just know it. And suddenly getting married doesn't seem like such a bad idea after all."

"Okay, this conversation is getting entirely too sappy," Liz said as she poured us all another drink. "What we need is a good game of _Never_."

"I don't think so," Carolyn argued. "I'll be passed out cold in twenty minutes."

"You can't hold your liquor?" Jennifer asked her in surprise.

"Oh, I can. Under normal circumstances."

"But Carolyn drinking to acknowledge her sexual past isn't a normal circumstance," Alex added conspiratorially.

"Is that how we do it?" I asked curiously.

"You make a statement and anyone who can't truthfully say the same thing has to take a drink," Lauren explained. "Although I haven't played since college."

I wondered briefly if it would bother Lauren, thinking about her past sexual experiences, because I can't imagine going through what she did, not to mention how it might continue to affect her current sex life.

But she looks okay with it.

In fact…she looks…really, really relaxed and happy.

"Then you'll get a lot more drunk this time," Liz said firmly, and I noticed that she seemed to be watching Lauren closely, too, but she didn't comment.

Instead she picked up her glass and said, "Okay, so…who wants to start?"

"I'll start," I said. "And I can only do this one tonight, because I plan to remedy the oversight first thing in the morning, but…I've never joined the Mile High club."

"Wait, are you serious?" Alex asked me. "All those cross-country flights on John's plane?"

"We didn't usually fly together," I explained. "He'd either come out to see me, or he'd send the plane to bring me back here."

"And you're flying somewhere tomorrow?"

"We're going to the Bahamas for the weekend," I explained. "A brief honeymoon. So…no one?"

And then I had to laugh as Carolyn slowly raised her glass.

"We couldn't have played this last weekend?" she mumbled before taking the shot.

"You?" Alex asked in surprise. "You hate to fly!"

"True, but it's not so bad when there's a distraction," she answered with a grin. "And Mike is a _really_ good distraction."

"You defiled my husband's plane," I teased, shaking my head at her. "I don't know how I feel about that."

"I know how _I _feel about it," she responded. "Pretty damn good."

"Connie, you're being awfully quiet," Lauren spoke up. "I've got one that'll get you drinking. I've never had sex in a parking garage."

Connie rolled her eyes, but took the shot, along with Alex and Carolyn, and then Liz said, "I've never gone out with one man and then home with another."

"Dr. Rodgers," Lauren said in amusement as Liz drank to her own statement. "I'm surprised at you."

"You are not," Liz said with a wave. "You got to get up close and personal with my sordid past, so you're not surprised at all."

Then she looked around at the rest of us as we all drank our shots.

"I thought that might get everyone going," Liz said smugly. "Connie?"

"I've never used hand cuffs," she posed challengingly. "And I don't mean while on the job."

I hesitated for a moment, because Lauren didn't drink, and I wasn't going to make her be alone in that distinction, even if it meant I'd have to lie about it, but then I saw that Jennifer wasn't drinking either, so I killed my shot and then held out the glass for Liz to refill it.

"Carolyn, you weren't kidding about getting drunk," Connie said.

"She did say she likes sex," Jennifer pointed out. "We'd better let her have a turn so she can come up with something she doesn't have to drink to."

"You need some time to think about it?" I teased.

"Are you guys saying I'm slutty?" she fired back, although she had a smile on her face. "Because you know, with the exception of that Mile High thing, I think most everyone else has been right there with me."

"Are you stalling?" Liz asked.

"No. I've got it. I've never faked it," she stated. She paused as all of us raised our glasses, and then she added, "With my _current_ significant other."

As she finished quantifying her statement, she put her glass down on the table, making a show of _not_ needing to drink.

Although I didn't need to either.

In fact, no one did except for Liz.

"Hey, sometimes I'm really tired," Liz said on a laugh. "But seriously, no one else?"

"Well, until tomorrow, my vibrator is my significant other," Jennifer said. "And there's really no point in faking it with myself, so…"

"You'll have to get back to us on that one," Lauren told her.

"Hey, you realize that it's eleven-thirty, right?" Alex spoke up.

"Do you have a curfew?" I asked her.

"No, I'm saying…it's thirty minutes away from Saturday."

The look on Jennifer's face was priceless as she processed that declaration, and she had all of us laughing at the speed with which she got out her phone.

"I can't believe I didn't think of that," she mumbled.

"Who could you possibly be texting?" I teased.

"Are you kidding me? Y'all have talked about nothing but sex since I got here, and I'm literally about to go crazy thinking I had to wait another day…"

"I like a girl who sticks to her guns, though," Liz said. "Very impressive."

"Thank you," Jennifer said without looking up from her phone.

"So…are you leaving us early?"

"I don't know. We'll see if he's interested."

She couldn't even get the words out before her phone buzzed.

"Looks like maybe you're not the only one tired of one-handing it," I quipped, amused by how quickly he responded.

"Who says he's been one-handing it?" she replied coyly.

She read through the message, her smile widening as she did so, and then she put her phone away and said, "Okay, where were we?"

"You're not leaving?"

"He's coming to pick me up."

"Good. Okay, then. You were about ready to admit to faking an orgasm during a solo experience," I joked, which sparked a new round of laughter.

"Um…no. And I don't plan on faking one any time soon, either."

"That's right. You _do_ have a little bit of experience with Mike, don't you?" Lauren asked her. "I seem to remember there being a shower incident…"

"Okay, I'm really not sure I want to hear this," Connie interrupted.

"Have another shot," I encouraged. "Here, I'll even keep it as part of the game. I've never done it in a car. No wait, I'll make it easier on the rest of us. A department vehicle."

"Oh my God," Carolyn muttered as she drank another shot.

That had to be at least a dozen for her, but she does hold it well.

"I wasn't trying to catch you two," I said as Alex finished off hers, too. "But I guess I should've known."

"Just please don't say the morgue, because if they've done it down there, I don't want to know about it!" Liz said.

"I'm pretty sure you'd be the only one drinking to that one, doc," Alex told her.

"You think I've had sex in the morgue?"

"Yes," Alex answered with a nod and a smile.

"Okay, so yeah…a couple of times. But my point is…what was my point again?"

"Actually, Austin here was getting ready to tell us what the very straight-laced DA looks like underneath those crisp business suits."

"No, I wasn't," Jennifer argued, although she was laughing as she poured herself another shot.

"Okay, at least tell us this," Carolyn posed. "Does he leave his socks on?"

"No," she said, still chuckling.

"Lupo does," Connie admitted. Then she drank another shot and added, "And okay, go ahead and tell us more about Mike. It's not fair that I'm keeping you from sharing as much as the rest of us. It'll just feel…weird the next time I see him, but I'll get over it."

"Wait, you glossed right over that sock thing," Lauren said. "Lupo wears them…during sex?"

"All the time," she said with a shrug. "His feet stay cold, and I'd rather have him wear the socks than have his ice cold feet on me, so…"

"Danny does sometimes," Liz added. "And I'm with you on that, Connie. Nothing worse than cold feet."

"And nothing sexier than a naked man in black socks," Carolyn remarked, causing everyone to start laughing again.

"Hey, say what you will," Connie argued. "Lupo is sexy no matter what he wears…or doesn't wear."

"And he sent you flowers today," Jennifer said. "That's pretty sexy, too."

"You know about that?" Connie asked in surprise, and then she nodded and said, "Ah, Mike told you. Yeah, it's our two-week anniversary today."

"So I'm guessing you gave him some kind of…present before you came over here tonight?" Alex asked her.

"I gave him a little something to tide him over until later," Connie said with a smile. Then she took one more shot and said, "Okay, Austin. Give us the dirt."

And to my surprise, she did.

Sort of.

I sat back and listened, enjoying seeing her come out of her shell even more. I mean, everyone else likes her, but she's apprehensive about it, thinking they're only tolerating her because of me.

It looks like maybe she's finally realizing that's not the case. She and I are so much alike it's scary, so it shouldn't be much of a surprise that they like her, too.

"That's never happened before," she was saying. "I mean, he had me just…_right_ there…and we were still fully clothed. But you know, the way that he kisses me…I swear, what we've been doing this week _without_ the sex is better than all of my previous relationships combined."

"Well, that's because he has a really nice bat," Alex joked.

"Yes, he does," Jennifer agreed quickly as she checked her watch.

"So he's on the way?" I asked her.

"Yeah, we were going to meet at the subway station, but after I texted him, he said he'd grab a cab and head this way."

"Oh! I've never done it in a cab," Liz said pointedly, and then she drank a shot.

"Seriously?" Alex asked her. "That's so…unsanitary."

"Are you kidding me? You're the one who did it in an elevator. And a parking garage. And…"

"Point taken," Alex interrupted, and then she looked around at the rest of us as we all drank, her gaze settling on Lauren, who hesitated for a moment and then quickly drank the shot.

"You, too, Lauren?" she asked her.

"I…yeah. Um…"

"Oh, I'm sensing it was recently," I said with a grin. "You and B? In a cab?"

"Well, it…um…"

"Recently, like _today_?" Carolyn asked her.

I was surprised to see Lauren's face flush just a little as she dropped her gaze to the table.

"Okay," Liz said firmly. "Enough's enough. What in the world is going on with you?"

"Okay. It's…I…um…"

"For God's sake, Lauren, just say it," I encouraged, and the only reason why I decided to push is probably for the same reason as Liz.

It's because she doesn't actually look upset about anything.

She's keeping a _good_ secret.

"You're all going to think I'm crazy," she said at last.

"Too late," Alex said. "We already do, but that's why you fit in so well with the rest of us."

Lauren took a deep breath and looked around the room, taking a moment to look each of us in the eye.

And then she said it.

TBC...


	110. Chapter 110

**Mike Cutter POV**

* * *

><p>By eleven-thirty, I was rolling in it.<p>

I mean, my luck was just unbelievable.

Logan had started out good, winning the first few hands, and then the tide turned and I was barely having to try anymore.

"Flush," I announced, setting down my cards and winning about the tenth hand in a row.

"This is why we don't invite lawyers to poker night," Lupo said as he tossed his cards on the table.

A month ago I might've taken his remark as a dig, but now I know him well enough to know when he's kidding, making it easy for me to joke back with him.

"Because you get your ass handed to you?" I asked, smiling smugly as I raked in the pot.

"Because you bluff for a living," Bernard clarified, siding with his partner.

"I'm sure you offer up a bluff or two in your line of work," I countered.

"Maybe," he conceded, and I was surprised by his lack of fight.

Instead of firing off with a good comeback he just…smiled and took it.

"If we're going to keep playing, I need to hit up an ATM," Logan said good-naturedly. Then he looked at John and said, "Hey, ATM…"

"I'm actually running short on cash myself," John told him, chuckling at the joke.

"That's because you're married now," Ross told him.

"No, it's because Cutter should be on the pro circuit instead of in Bernard's dining room."

"I'm still in," Bobby said. "Deal the cards."

Jeremy started shuffling while I reached for the bottle of scotch.

I've been trying to pace myself because I don't want to get drunk. I'll be meeting up with Jennifer after we're done here, and even though we still have another day of celibacy, I'm still hoping I can talk her into spending the night with me tonight.

I've missed having her in my bed this week.

It sounds crazy, I know.

She was only in it for two nights, and then on Monday she went back to her place, since the case was closed.

But Monday night, when I went home alone, my apartment felt…empty.

In fact, it felt so empty that I called her.

"_Can I take you to dinner?_" I asked. "_Or are you still trying to get yourself organized after being away from home for so long?"_

"_It is a mess," _she agreed. "_And it's not that they did much damage when they broke in, but…"_

"_It's still been a week,"_ I commiserated. _"Mail, dishes, laundry…"_

"_Something like that."_

"_I could come over and help,"_ I offered. _"And bring food."_

"_I'm sure you can think of better ways to spend your Monday night."_

"_No, I can't. Unless you want to be alone…"_

"_Can you bring Italian?" _she interrupted, and I could just hear her smiling._ "I've been craving seafood ravioli."_

I wanted to tell her that I've been craving _her_, but I decided to just show her later.

And I did.

Or at least, as much as I could while sticking to our rule.

"I can't believe you got married and didn't tell us," Logan said to John as Jeremy dealt the next hand.

"Hey, I asked you last weekend if you were going to be upset about Mary and me getting married on the sly, and you said no."

"I'm not mad about missing the wedding, but you cheated us out of a bachelor party!" Logan joked.

"That's right," Lupo agreed. "I bet that would've been a hell of a party, too."

"I don't remember you having one either," Bobby pointed out to Lupo. "So you're not really one to talk."

"Yeah, you know…none of us had one," Logan said. "That's just wrong."

"That settles it," Lupo said firmly. "B, when you get married, you have to promise to let us throw you a bachelor party."

"Exactly," Logan agreed quickly. "I mean, seriously. We've all gotten married within the past year and yet we haven't had one good blowout in Vegas."

"So I'm supposed to give you a heads up in time to organize a weekend in Sin City?" Bernard asked.

"Sure, why not? Or we could do A.C. if you don't want to go all the way to Vegas," Bobby suggested.

"It's not that...it's..." Bernard hedged quietly, but Lupo didn't wait for him to finish.

"Yeah, and don't even try to dispute that you'll be next."

"Uh huh. What is it Lauren told me?" Ross said with a grin. "Oh yeah. _Just consider us married_."

"Um…I won't be next," Bernard replied firmly, and suddenly all of the laughter faded away as everyone focused on Bernard.

"You sound pretty sure about that," Bobby remarked carefully.

"I am."

"But you and Lauren..." Ross said, and it looked like maybe he was a little worried.

Like he thought there was trouble in paradise already, after only one week of them living together, of her working in the same department with him.

I know better.

I mean, not about why he's so sure they won't get married, but about there being trouble in paradise.

There isn't.

Jenn and I had dinner with them last night and they looked incredibly happy together.

The moment hung in the air while everyone looked at Bernard, waiting to hear what he was going to say.

He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, like he was debating with himself whether or not to come clean, and then he took a deep breath and said, "We won't be _getting_ married because…we already are. We did it this morning."

Everyone started talking at once, mostly statements of disbelief and jokes about how only a couple of months ago he'd been a confirmed bachelor.

But honestly, I'm not all that surprised.

I mean, I didn't know, but they _did_ talk about it earlier this week.

We were discussing the Flowers case, and how Schmenke would probably put Bernard on the stand, and Lauren spoke up, saying _we should just get married now and then you can invoke spousal privilege_.

And _then_ I was surprised.

"_You don't get married just to avoid testifying. Not when you haven't done anything wrong."_

"_We wouldn't do that_," she said, looking at me like I was crazy. "_But if we're going to do it anyway, why not do it before the trial?"_

Of course, then Mulder had found a connection between Schmenke and the copycat, and Connie followed up the lead and found concrete proof, and all talk about a trial was put to bed.

There won't _be_ any trial.

And yet they still got married.

And why is it that I find their impulsiveness and their willingness to commit even after knowing each other such a short time _intriguing_ and _inspiring_?

Probably because I've known Jennifer for two weeks and I already don't like sleeping without her.

And as I sat there thinking about her, only partly listening to the bevy of congratulatory remarks, my phone buzzed.

A text from Jennifer.

Is it a juvenile response…my heart skipping a beat when I saw her name on the display?

I don't know, but it did.

_**Do you realize that we're only half an hour away from Saturday…day fourteen? It'll take us at least that long to get back to your place…just let me know when you're ready to leave.**_

I typed out my response as quickly as possible.

_**I'm leaving right now. Wait for me. I'll get a cab and come pick you up.**_

And yeah, I could've just met her in the subway like we'd originally planned, but I think I might be able to get to her just a little bit faster doing it this way, and I feel like if I wait one minute longer than absolutely necessary, I'm going to go insane.

And I have no idea why it didn't occur to me that it's almost Saturday. Although even if it had, I wouldn't have pushed it.

She has her reasons for wanting to wait, and even though it's _killing_ me, it's not really going to kill me.

Besides, she's pretty good at being creative.

And generous.

And demonstrative.

But the idea that very soon I'll be getting her out of her clothes rather than only feeling underneath…_that_ fact has me tossing my cards on the table.

"Fold," I said as I got up from the chair.

It didn't hit me until I was standing that no one else was actually playing yet anyway.

They were all still ribbing Bernard.

Or at least they were until I stood up.

"You're quitting?" Logan asked me. "You can't take the money and run. It's not even midnight yet."

"He's just afraid we'll move onto him now that B's joined the ranks of condemned men," Lupo said.

"Condemned? I bet Connie would love to hear you talk about your marriage like that," I joked, desperate to keep the heat off of me, and even more desperate to get the hell out of here.

And yeah, maybe that makes me sound…I don't know.

Like a typical guy, only thinking with my dick.

And I guess maybe I am, but I can't help it.

"Practicing a little misdirection, Counselor?" Bobby asked. "What's your hurry?"

"I just…realized that it's…late, and I…have to go into the office in the morning, and…"

I didn't finish my lame excuse. Instead, I downed the rest of my scotch and then reached for my jacket, and for a second, I thought I was going to get away without any more comments.

"You're going to hook up with that inspector, aren't you?" Jeremy asked me with a grin. "I mean, you got a text and now you're hauling ass, so…although not that I blame you. I'd be puttin' on the jets, too."

I paused and looked around the table as everyone watched me, the amusement evident on their faces.

"You're going to make a hell of a detective, Jeremy," I answered.

"Yeah, it's the tact department where he needs a little work," Ross added.

"You're blowing the poker game for a girl?" Logan asked me, shaking his head in contrived disbelief.

"For a woman," I corrected. "And I'm guessing this game's going to be shut down early tonight anyway, right, Bernard? This is your wedding night."

"He's got a point," Bobby said as they gradually shifted their focus from me to Bernard. "I'm surprised you didn't cancel."

"We're flying to California in the morning," he answered. "We'll spend the weekend in LA…visit my mom…we figured a few hours apart tonight won't kill us."

"You two are going out of town this weekend, too? I'll have six detectives unavailable for a call-out?"

"I'm not on the list, Chief," Bernard answered. "I checked."

"So did we," Bobby added.

"Yeah, I know, but…"

"Are you going to miss us, boss?" Logan asked him.

"I think the department will survive one weekend without us," Bernard stated.

"And if you get stuck, you can call me," Lupo said. "Eames and I can fill in. It's not like I haven't worked with him before."

Ross nodded and then asked Logan about his current case progress, and since the topic had shifted, I took the opportunity to offer my congratulations to both Bernard and John and then I made my exit.

It only took me a minute to hail a cab and after giving the driver the address, I leaned back in the seat and exhaled heavily.

_Get a grip, Mike_.

There's no rush.

Just because the moratorium is over, doesn't mean we have to hurry through the good stuff. What I need to do is take it just as slow as we've been doing.

Only tonight we won't be putting on the brakes.

And I was wrong about the idea that I'm only thinking with my dick.

I mean, I really want her.

But when I think about her, it's not just in that way…it's her smile, and the way she talks, and the way she thinks…just everything about her.

And I'm not in love with her or anything.

I'm _not_.

But I think about her all the time, and when I'm not with her I _want_ to be with her and when I _am_ with her, I don't want to be anywhere else.

"Is this it?" the driver asked me after the twenty-minute drive.

I've never been to the chief's house before, so I looked through the window to confirm the number that was nailed to the front door, and then I told the driver to wait for me.

I could feel the anticipation building in me as I walked up to the front door, and I honestly can't remember the last time I was so excited to see a woman.

Well, I mean, before Jennifer.

I raised my hand to knock, but then the door opened and there she was.

So, so beautiful.

"I was trying to keep an eye out for you," she explained as she quickly closed the door behind her. "I didn't want you to have to ring the bell."

"Because you don't want our friends to know you're meeting me?"

"Oh, no," she said with a grin. "They know. I just wanted to save you from getting teased. They're all…well, drunk, and they talk about sex a _lot_, and I guess I let a few things slip and…"

"Jenn," I interrupted, finding her ramblings cute and yet I was only barely paying attention because at the moment, I _really_ need to kiss her.

"Hmm?" she questioned, looking at me expectantly.

Several things ran through my head…things to say to her, maybe to tell her how much I've been thinking about her tonight, or how incredibly beautiful she is, or maybe even something a little dirtier, like exactly what I plan to do with her when I get her home…but I didn't say any of that.

Instead, I just kissed her.

Purposefully and demanding, with a promise of things to come. She responded immediately, matching my enthusiasm, and it was so much _better_…almost as if we've both been holding back just a little up to this point.

But there wasn't going to be any holding back tonight.

"Let's go," she said as she took hold of my hand.

"Are you in a hurry?" I teased as she led the way down the stairs.

"Yes. Aren't you?"

I really love her honesty. There's no game-playing with her. No guessing as to what she's thinking, because all I have to do is ask, and she'll tell me. Like just now.

"Yes, I am," I admitted, because I'm way past the point of trying to play it cool, and if she's going to be truthful about it, then so am I.

She looked back over her shoulder, flashing me a smile that was at once playful and seductive.

"Then come _on_," she encouraged.

We practically jogged the last several feet to where the cab was waiting, and then I opened the door for her as I asked, "At the risk of sounding cliché, your place or mine?"

"Yours," she responded decisively. "I've been wanting to be naked in your bed for at least a week now, so I'm not passing up the opportunity tonight."

Her words caused me to pause for a moment, swallowing hard as I watched her slide across the vinyl bench seat in the back of the car, and then I got in after her and mindlessly spouted off my address to the driver, offering him an extra twenty if he could get us there in less than thirty minutes.

"For an extra fifty, I can get you there in twenty," the guy offered.

I'm sure he figured me for an easy mark, because no doubt, he heard what she'd said to me, but that's fine.

It'll be money well spent.

And it was.

It took closer to twenty-five minutes, but I gave him the fifty anyway because most cabbies would've made the trip last at least twice that.

During the entire drive, we barely talked.

We didn't kiss, either. I didn't want to start again and then have to stop.

Instead, I put my arm around her and she leaned her head on my shoulder.

"Lauren and Bernard got married," she said, breaking our silence as we rode the elevator up to my apartment.

"Uh huh. John and Mary, too."

"I knew Mary was going to do it, but Lauren…they've only been dating for a couple of months."

"She didn't say anything to you about it?"

"No. I get the feeling she was afraid someone would try to talk her out of it."

"They're mature, consenting adults," I reasoned.

"So you don't think it's…I don't know. Impulsive?"

And she didn't sound like she was being judgmental. More like wistful, maybe.

Or maybe it's just me who feels that way.

"I think it's exactly that. But I also think they love each other, and I'm not sure that's something you have to explore for years before you know for sure. I think sometimes you just know."

"Love at first sight," she stated.

"Something like that, maybe."

By this point, we were standing outside of my apartment door, and I started to reach for my key, but then she reached out, lightly settling her hand along the side of my face, turning me towards her.

"I can't stop thinking about you," she said quietly. "All week, every night…I don't know what to do with the fact that you're spending so much time in my head."

After her declaration, she didn't wait for me to respond. She just slowly leaned in, touching her lips gently against mine in a chaste yet sensuous manner that had me clenching my fist in an effort to keep from losing control.

After several moments, she slowly pulled away and then smiled at me as she said, "So are we going to do this in the hallway, or are you going to let us inside?"

"If you kiss me like that again before I find my key, I think we're going to be doing this in the hall," I replied, matching her smile as I reached into my pocket.

"Do you need help?" she offered, and as she said the words, she reached her hand into my pocket, not coming anywhere near the key…oh my God, the woman can go from sweet innocence to provocative vixen in two seconds flat.

And of course, I like both equally, so I'm just about done for.

After another minute, we managed to get inside.

"So…" she said as I flipped on the light. "Um…you know, I think I'm nervous."

"If you've changed your mind…"

"No," she answered quickly. "I'm just wondering if we've put so much focus on it that maybe it's making you feel something that isn't there. I mean, I never intended for this to be some kind of ploy to get you to like me, or…"

"I know that," I interrupted. "And it goes both ways…maybe you can't stop thinking about me because…"

"It's because I like you," she said, effectively putting an end to my doubts.

"Good. I like you, too."

"I mean, a lot," she said. "And…I don't know, I'm just…what if it doesn't live up to your expectations?"

I wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of her question, because I can't imagine her being anything less than exactly what I want, and yet I was a little concerned about the same thing, too…that after a week of practice, I'd blow the game.

"Let's get a drink," I suggested. "And we'll see where things go."

She followed me into the kitchen and I opened the liquor cabinet, debating our choices.

"You drank tequila tonight?" I asked her.

"I had a shot or two," she said dismissively as she leaned back against the counter. I flashed her a dubious look, and she said, "Okay, probably more like ten. You want to give me a field sobriety test? Check my manual dexterity?"

The break in action seems to be a good idea, because her playfulness is back.

And her offer is fairly tempting, but I'm trying to be good. At least for now.

"I only asked because I thought you might want to stick with the same thing."

I watched her for a moment as she put her hands on the counter and then effortlessly levered herself up until she was sitting on the ceramic tiles.

"Oh. Um…no. I want bourbon," she said decisively, and she accompanied her words with a scorching look.

See?

She's headed back towards that vixen neighborhood.

"Bourbon it is," I answered as I pulled out the bottle and poured a few fingers into each glass.

I picked up the tumblers and moved to stand in front of her. As I sipped from one glass, she took the other one from my hand and set it on the counter behind her.

"You're not going to drink it?" I asked her, mildly aware that we're recreating a scenario.

"Yes, I am," she answered, and then she took the tumbler from my hand, blindly reaching back to set it next to the other one.

And then she kissed me.

It was instantly hot, incredibly intense, and all signs of hesitancy and nervousness were gone.

I moved closer to her, until my body was pressed against hers, and even then, it wasn't close enough.

I had to have more.

Without breaking off the kiss, I ran my hands down her back and then grabbed onto her shirt, untucking it so that I could feel the skin underneath.

She tugged on my shirt, pushing it up until I finally had to tear my lips away from hers, just long enough to get the shirt over my head, and then I immediately started up again.

"Um…bedroom?" she suggested enthusiastically when I moved my lips from her mouth to her throat while my fingers worked feverishly to undo the buttons on her blouse.

"Uh huh," I agreed, but at that moment, I managed to undo the last one and I pushed her blouse from her shoulders, letting it fall onto the counter behind her as I hungrily took in the sight of her, and I couldn't even begin to think about going anywhere.

Then the next several minutes were a haze of activity as we each worked to rid the other one of clothing as quickly as possible, almost as if it were a competition.

I won.

And it makes me really glad that I waited to see her like this until now because if I'd seen her before, I'm not sure I would've been able to stick to the rules.

Because she's just so…

"You're staring," she said, somewhat shyly, which was cute, considering she had her hands on my boxer-briefs, getting ready to push them down to the floor.

"I'm…yeah. You've got to be the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

She smiled at me, one that caused my already-aching erection to get just a little bit harder, and then she meticulously eased my briefs from my hips.

And she's seen me before. She's had her hands on me…her mouth…and yet she still moved her eyes over me slowly, deliberately…and then when she brought her eyes back to mine, she ran her tongue over her bottom lip in a way that just about did me in.

I pulled her to me and then, despite the fact that my control was on life support, I found the willpower to kiss her slowly so that the moment didn't get away from us too quickly.

And then that kiss led to another and another, each one increasing in intensity until she finally said in a breathless voice, "Don't hold back."

So I didn't.

And we didn't make it to the bedroom, either.

I had her right there in the kitchen, with her back against the cabinets. And by the time we got up the energy to move towards the bedroom, I was ready to go again, and so we still didn't make it.

That second time was in the hall. Two pictures fell off the wall, and I think one of them broke, but I don't care. I didn't even bother to look at the damage. Instead, once my legs were steady again, I carried her into the bedroom.

"You know, I knew I'd enjoy being naked in your bed, but I had no idea I'd be so completely satisfied by the time I got here," she said when I stretched out next to her on the bed.

"So…you're staying, right?" I asked, unable to keep from voicing my insecurity.

Because like she mentioned earlier…what if the attraction was only because of the restraints we put on ourselves? And now that they're gone…

"Of course I'm staying," she answered, turning towards me and running her hand over my chest. "I mean, if you want me…"

I broke into a grin and pulled her more fully on top of me, enjoying the feel of her against me even when I'm not anywhere close to being ready for round three.

"I want you," I said as I ran my fingers through her hair.

"Good," she sighed and then she rested her cheek against my chest. "So did you have fun playing poker tonight?"

"Yeah, it was…different. I think I was a little distracted."

"Me, too," she admitted, laughing lightly as she shifted so that she could look up at me. "I just kept thinking about you, and they were all talking nonstop about sex and that definitely wasn't making it any easier."

"And you said they know you were meeting up with me?"

"Oh yeah. Lauren got into this whole baseball analogy," she said, laughing a little more as she shook her head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been talking about you like that."

"Like what?" I asked curiously.

"I might have said something about you…having a nice bat."

"Lupo warned me about loose lips and tequila," I replied easily.

And yeah, it's a little embarrassing thinking about my anatomy being discussed, but at least it was talked about in a positive light, so I can't complain.

"You're not mad?"

"As long as you referred to it as a Louisville slugger and not a mini Rawlings…"

"Definitely," she said, shifting against me again as she reached down in between us to run her hand over the object of our discussion.

And maybe I'm a little closer to round three than I thought.

"Everyone's going out of town this weekend," she said quietly as she started kissing my neck while continuing to move her hand over me.

"Where do you want to go?" I offered, because it hit me that I would take her anywhere.

I mean, I can't afford to whisk her off to the Bahamas, but something else…an overnight trip somewhere, just the two of us…

"I don't want to go anywhere," she said.

"Oh," I replied guardedly, trying to mask my disappointment. "Okay."

"I mean, literally," she clarified. "Can we just stay right here in bed all weekend?"

She looked up at me with a hopeful expression on her face, and even though she'd stopped her movements, my heart was still racing.

Maybe even more so than it was before.

"I think that sounds like a great idea," I agreed, wrapping my arms around her and hugging her to me.

And I know…I said that I'm not in love with her.

But it's very possible that I was wrong.

TBC...


	111. Chapter 111

**Lauren POV**

* * *

><p>I came up top from the subway station and there he was.<p>

My _husband_.

I don't think I've fully grasped it yet.

Of course, it's only been about fourteen hours, but still…

And even though I have a hard time believing it, it doesn't scare me.

At all.

But I'll admit it. Despite the incredible start to our Monday morning, there were a few times during the week when we nearly went off the rails.

Because of me, of course, but still…

But like I said, Monday morning was almost like a dream.

We made love before I was even fully awake, and then he got so sweet and serious, telling me that the reason he wanted to call his mother was to tell her than I'm the only one for him…and then I asked him why it was so important to bring her up to speed, and that's when he said it.

"_Because I have this idea…and you'll probably think it's crazy, but…Lauren, I want to marry you. And don't answer me just yet. I want you to think about it first, but I also want you to know that I can't seem to think about anything else…just you."_

"_B, I…"_

"_Don't say no yet,"_ he interrupted. "_Just think about it."_

As if I'd say no.

But I humored him, mostly because I wanted him to know that I put a lot of thought into it.

So then we went into work, and even though it was my first official day in Major Case, Alex invited me to do the Christina interrogation with her.

And I did _good_.

So, see? It doesn't get much better, right?

I should've known that it couldn't last.

After the interrogation, Bernard got a text from Mike, and I knew it was going to be bad news because that's why he texted him instead of me, so instead of waiting for Mike to come to 1PP, we went over to his office.

And he dropped the bombshell.

He told us about the copycat rapist and I felt…outraged, to say the least.

"_He's behind this_!" I'd yelled at Mike. "_You know he is…so now they're resorting to inciting rape?"_

"_He won't get away with it,"_ he told me firmly.

"_But he __**is**__. And now he'll thumb his nose at the deal…we'll go to trial,"_ I railed, working myself into a frenzy. "_And hell, they'll even bring up our visit to Frackville. They'll say I'm a distraught victim who's so desperate to assign blame that I'm reaching out to anyone because obviously Flowers isn't my rapist…not when an identical one just occurred, one where the victim wasn't killed._

"_And then they'll put B on the stand. **Have you heard her talk about the event? Yes. Did she ever say that she saw her attacker's face? No. **Score one for the defense. And that's just the beginning. If Schmenke knows that the two of us are together, he can question B until the cows come home about everything I've ever said, including my doubts about whether or not I'm at fault! Mike, this is…this is…"_

"_Hey, easy,"_ Bernard said gently, getting up to block my path of relentless pacing.

He held his arms open to me, not touching me but inviting the embrace and damn if that didn't make me mad, too, because why am I so messed up that when I start talking about the rape I flinch when the man I love touches me?

"_I'll give you two a minute," _Mike offered, heading for the door, and even _that_ made me mad.

"_Don't look at me like I'm about to have a breakdown," _I fired back._ "And you sure as hell don't have to leave your own office. I'm just saying…this is fucked up."_

"_Yes, it is," _he agreed calmly. He stopped with one hand on the door knob while he looked at me with concern.

"_I mean, __**completely**__ fucked up," _I reiterated.

Bernard stayed quiet while Mike nodded his agreement and I just stood there fuming.

One might think that this is where the week went astray, right? Because I was flying off the handle, and Flowers could potentially get away with what he did to me…

But it wasn't.

Because I think I'm making progress with my recovery, and after my outburst, I started losing a little bit of steam.

As mad as I was about the situation, I realized that I was taking it out on the wrong people.

"_Sit back down_," I mumbled to Mike as I finally went into B's arms.

He held me close without saying a word and it was amazing how much better I felt just from his silent support.

I enjoyed it for a moment, and then eased back, looking at both men as I said, _"I'm sorry."_

"_Don't be sorry,"_ Mike said quickly. _"Everything you said is exactly right. This latest rape changes everything, and yes, they'll most likely call Bernard to the stand."_

I glanced at Bernard, and I couldn't help but think about the astonishing fact that he wants to marry me.

_Me_.

In spite of how irrevocably damaged I am.

"_We should just get married now and then you can invoke spousal privilege," _I stated.

Bernard smiled at me and took hold of my hand. He didn't say anything, but I could tell he liked the idea.

"_You don't get married just to avoid testifying," _Mike said in surprise._ "Not when you haven't done anything wrong."_

_"We wouldn't do that,"_ I answered. _"But if we're going to do it anyway, why not do it before the trial?"_

We left Mike's office a short time later, on the promise that we wouldn't do anything rash, but as soon as we hit the elevator, B was all over me.

"_So that's a yes, right? You're saying yes?" _he asked, his body pressed against mine and his lips hovering near my ear.

Because I hadn't actually answered him and yet my statement to Mike pretty much said it all.

And no, getting married just so that he wouldn't have to testify wouldn't be a very good idea.

But getting married because I don't want to live without him…that's another story.

And I'd made up my mind while he was still asking the question this morning, so my answer had nothing to do with Mike's news.

"_I'm definitely saying yes," _I told him, and I could barely stop smiling long enough to kiss him.

So that was Monday, and life was good.

Over the next two days, I went back and forth.

"_Let's do it now. As soon as possible. Like I told Mike, we know we want to do it anyway, so why not do it before the trial starts?"_

Because that way B won't have to sit on the witness stand and talk about my nightmares.

And then…

"_Let's get married afterwards. After the trial, or the deal, or whatever happens with Flowers."_

Because do I really want our first year as a married couple to be plagued with depositions and court dates and revealing, ugly testimony?

And then Wednesday night, I nearly blew it completely.

Because my mother called.

"_Your father told me about what happened_," she said when I answered the phone.

_Nice ice-breaker, Mom_, I thought.

"_I don't know why you thought you couldn't tell us sooner," _she admonished.

"_Does it matter?"_

"_Of course it matters, honey! You need to come home."_

"_I **am** home."_

"_Oh, that's right. You're living with that…man."_

"_Bernard,"_ I stated. _"Yes, I'm living with him."_

And I wanted to tell her that he asked me to marry him, but that little voice in my head told me that she'd just find a way to ruin it.

"_And he knows about…the…um..."_

"_He knows I was raped, Mom,"_ I said in annoyance, trying to think of an excuse to get off the phone.

"_Oh,"_ she replied, sounding somewhat surprised. Then she started one of her patented speeches, where she states things as fact, no matter how unfounded. "_Then he feels sorry for you. That's not love, honey, so do yourself a favor and end it now before things get too entangled and messy. Trust me on this. And you know, I owe you an apology for always trying to convince you to get married, although if you'd just told me then I would've understood that it's not in the cards for you, dear. It's going to be pretty tough to find a man who can overlook something like that."_

I didn't argue with her. I just _yes ma'amed_ her until I could get her off the phone. And I don't know if she meant to hit below the belt or not, but her words got me thinking.

And _that's_ when I almost self-destructed.

"_Maybe it's not such a good idea," _I said to B, finding him in the living room after I ended my conversation with my mother.

"_Us getting married?"_

"_Yeah…B, I'm…I'm just not…"_

"_You're not in love with me?"  
><em>

"_You know I am."_

"_Then you're not interested in making a commitment?"_

"_Yes, of course."_

"_Then…"_

"_I'm not supposed to be married,"_ I said in frustration, wondering why he couldn't understand that simple fact. "_Because I'm…I'm..."_

"_If you say damaged,"_ he warned as he moved closer to me, and then he suddenly stopped, and I lost it because that's the _second_ time…he did it Monday in Mike's office, too.

He consciously avoided getting too close or touching me or even getting too upset with me.

And even though Monday it was only me who was mad, it doesn't matter.

He's censoring himself. Because when was the last time he yelled at me?

"_Of course I'm damaged!" _I yelled, stepping into him and taking on an adversarial position. "_God damn it, B, we can't even fight like normal people because you're worried to death about making me uncomfortable or causing a flashback or…or…whatever!"_

"_You want me to fight with you?"_ he asked, and I could tell that his temper was barely in check, and I wanted nothing more than to make him go off on me.

And I know…that makes me a little weird, but I needed to know that he could…that he would. I couldn't subject him to a lifetime of always having to control his anger.

"_I want you to call it like you see it,"_ I said confrontationally. "_I want you to admit that I'm fucked up and that you're setting the bar too low if you want to be with me and…"_

"_**If**__ I want to be with you? If? I think I made myself pretty damn clear about that when I asked you to marry me!"_ he shouted.

"_I screwed you, B," _I said, running my hand through my hair in frustration. _"I didn't mean to, but I did. I tried to push you away, but then you insisted on sticking around, and I let you because you're such a nice guy and I have no willpower… and after I told you what happened…well, what kind of guy would you be if you ditched me then, right? But you don't have to be stuck with me forever. You don't want to marry me. You just want to save me." _

"_You think I can't get pissed at you?" _he asked me, his voice low and menacing, and I was both surprised and strangely pleased to see that he took a small step closer to me as he pinned me with an irate stare._ "Well guess what. I'm pretty goddamn angry right now. You think I'm stuck with you? Is that really how you feel? Trust me sweetheart, I'm not that nice. I asked you to marry me because I'm selfish, okay? I don't want to have to think about waking up one day and not having you there beside me. I don't want to have a bad day at work and not be able to share it with you. I don't want to get __**old**__ without you. See? It's all about what I want because I'm a self-centered bastard, and what I want is you." _

"_But if you get old with someone else, you could have kids! Grandkids! Something more than just me, 24/7 for the rest of your life!" _

By this time, we were standing nose to nose, and he was breathing hard, his face etched with anger.

"_I don't want anything else," _he bit out._ "And I don't know how else to say it. You, Lauren. Just you. Forever. Try to get it through that rock head of yours, okay? I don't care that you're fucked up. I'm fucked up, too, which is probably why we get along so well."_

"_But…" _

"_Stop. Just stop. If you don't want to marry me, just say it. But for the love of God, don't try to turn this into you telling me that I don't want to marry you. Because I know what I want. The question is…do you?" _

I closed my eyes and exhaled heavily.

"_Yes, I know what I want," _I said quietly_. _

"_Are you sure?" _he asked hotly_. _

"_Yes_," I answered, his insistence finally breaking through the doubts that my mother instigated._ "So quit yelling at me, okay?" _

"_Maybe I'm not done being mad at you yet," _he answered, although I could tell that now he was. His stance relaxed slightly and the beginnings of a smile played on his lips.

"_Good. You know, I want you to get mad at me sometimes." _

"_Well, then keep saying stupid stuff like the idea that I don't want you. That'll piss me off every time." _

I barked out a laugh and ducked my head, reaching out to grab hold of him as I rested the top of my head against his chest.

"_My mother said…"_

"_Something that messed with your head,"_ he said, since I'd trailed off and not finished my sentence. I didn't even want to repeat what she said. _"And she's wrong. I think I need to fly to Minnesota and have a chat with her just like I did your father."_

And he would, too…if I wanted him to.

And maybe I don't know _why_ he's in love with me, but does it matter?

"_I want you, B," _I told him._ "And I want to marry you." _

"_Then quit arguing with me about it." _

"_Okay," _I conceded. Then I looked up at him and smiled and said,_ "So do we get to have make-up sex now?"_

"_You know, I don't know…I'm starting to think you only want me for my body."_

"_Well…yeah," _I answered as I ran my hand over his chest._ "What'd you think?"_

At that point, he picked me up and put me over his shoulder, carrying me off to the bedroom.

And I liked his use of the power-play, and I liked it even more that it didn't bother me at all. Not when he carried me, and not when he tossed me onto the bed, and not even when he captured my wrists in his hand, holding my hands above my head while we engaged in our enthusiastic make-up sex.

In spite of my minor setback after talking to my mother, I think overall, I'm doing much better. Although B probably deserves some kind of medal for putting up with my neuroses…I'd tell him that if I didn't think it would piss him off again. Although that would mean more make-up sex, so maybe I will.

On Thursday, Connie called.

"_Benson caught the rapist_," she told me.

"_And?"_

"_And he's being ambiguous. He won't deny that he's responsible for your attack."_

"_Thus maintaining the reasonable doubt," _I said knowingly. I sighed heavily and added,_ "I should've just killed Flowers, right there in the visiting room. No jury in the world would've convicted me for getting payback on that bastard."_

"_You might be right_," she replied._ "But I'm glad you didn't. Give me a little more time, okay? I know that weasel Schmenke is behind all of this, and I'm working on a way to prove it."_

"_Okay," _I agreed._ "I really appreciate this. I know you've got casework piling up."_

"_I'm not worried about it, so there's no need for you to worry, either." _

Easier said than done, but I'm very proud of myself, because not only did I _not_ worry, but I also didn't regress into thinking that I don't deserve happiness.

And I was rewarded for my faith in myself.

"_I've got news,"_ Mike said to me when he called Thursday evening. "_Why don't you let me and Jennifer take you and Bernard out for dinner?"_

Which meant good news.

And it was.

Mulder found out that Schmenke had used an alias to maintain a bank account.

And Connie scoured the account information and discovered that he'd bought a burn phone.

And guess whose number he'd called?

The copycat rapist.

Not to mention the fact that the copycat had received a wire transfer of five hundred dollars the day after the rape…a transfer that traced back to Schmenke's bogus account.

"_That poor girl was brutalized for five hundred dollars_," I said sadly after Mike told us the details. "_Please tell me that Schmenke's going down."_

"_Oh yeah," _he answered decisively. "_Flowers, too. Schmenke's attempt to muddy the waters only helps prove our case. If he was innocent, why would they go through the trouble?"_

"_When will you know something?"_

"_Connie and I have a meeting first thing in the morning. I'll call you as soon as it's settled."_

I nodded and sipped my drink and I tried to see if I felt something…some kind of despair or self-pity or…something.

"_Are you okay?"_ Bernard asked me quietly as he settled his hand on my thigh.

"_I'm really, really good,"_ I answered.

He smiled back at me and then Jennifer started talking about her latest assignment, and Mike teased her about her accent, and as I laughed along with the others, I put Flowers and Schmenke out of my mind.

They're my past.

Bernard is my future.

"_Are you sure you want to do this_?" I asked him this morning when we were still in the bed.

"_Are we going to fight about this again?"_ he teased. "_I thought engagements were supposed to be a happy time, but you keep trying to pick fights."_

"_I'm just asking,"_ I said. "_You want me to say what's on my mind, right?"_

"_Always. And yes, I'm sure._ _It was my idea, remember? You called me crazy_."

"_And then I said yes_," I reminded him with a smile. "_Although, you __**are**__ crazy. You've only known me for a couple of months. What if I'm not who you think I am?"_

"_What if you're not the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with?"_ he asked, his gaze softening as he ran his hand over my hair, holding onto the ends like he loves to do. "_Impossible."_

"_How do you know?"_

"_I'm forty-three years old. I've dated a lot of women. Some of them were nice and I liked them and we had a good time, but I've never once felt like I do now."_

"_And how is that?" _I prompted, and I realized that I was holding my breath while I awaited his answer.

Not because I wasn't sure that he'd say something appropriately romantic, but because I'd already made up my mind what _I_ was going to say in response.

"_Like even forever won't be long enough."_

Wow. Even expecting romance, he still got me with that one.

I kissed him lightly, drawing out the pleasure for a few extra moments.

And then I pulled back and smiled at him as I said, _"Then let's do it today."_

A few hours after that, we were standing in Judge Whitmore's chambers.

Because yeah, we got her to marry us, too.

So when Alex said that she'd done four marriages for our little group, she's actually done five.

I told the girls about that while we drank shot after shot of Patron. I'd expected at least one of them to question why in the world Bernard and I had gotten married so quickly.

But no one did.

In fact, I was so surprised by the complete absence of censure that I had to ask.

"_No one's going to tell me that we're crazy?" _

"_For getting married? No,"_ Alex answered.

"_I've only known him for a couple of months."_

"_So?"_ Mary asked.

And I suppose she hasn't known John for much longer, and a lot of that time was spent apart, so…

"_When you know, you know,_" Carolyn said with a shrug.

"_You want us to tell you that you screwed up_?" Liz asked me.

"_My mother would. In fact, she's probably going to have a heart attack when I tell her."_

"_You haven't told her yet?"_ Jennifer asked as a slow smile spread across her face. We haven't talked about it yet, but I get the feeling we have similar parent issues.

"_No. I haven't told anyone except you guys."_

_My real family_, I thought as a pleasant feeling buzzed through me. And maybe it was the tequila, I don't know.

Maybe it's just being accepted.

And not just by the women in our little group, but by the men, too.

I ran into Logan and Bobby a little later on, as I walked towards the subway station.

"_Now I don't know what to call you_," Logan said with a grin as they approached me on the sidewalk. "_Mrs. Bernard or Miss Minnesota_."

"_Just stick with Lauren. It'll save you an ass-whipping_," I told him.

"_Listen to her, Mike_," Bobby joked. _"I don't feel like dragging you to the ER tonight."_

"_So I guess I shouldn't ask whether or not you wear the tiara to bed,"_ Logan teased.

And then before I could respond, he hugged me. I mean, he _really_ squeezed me tight.

Then he said quietly, "_Seriously…congratulations, kiddo."_

"_Thanks,_" I replied simply, afraid that if I tried to say anything more, I might get emotional.

He let me go and I was promptly snatched up again, this time by Bobby.

"_You've made Bernard a very happy man,_" he told me.

"_I hope so."_

"_So you're walking alone?"_ Logan asked me as he looked around. "_You don't need to do that."_

"_I'm good," _I told him. I patted my hip and said, "_I'm packing."_

"_We can walk you to the station,"_ Bobby offered.

"_I'm fine,"_ I promised with a smile. "_Go. Meet your drunk wives."_

Logan nodded and said, "_You'll probably run into Ross and Jeremy. John, too. They weren't far behind us."_

"_I'll keep an eye out. I need to congratulate John."_

We said our goodbyes and I walked the rest of the way to the subway station. I didn't run into any of the others, but that's fine.

I'd walked alone so that I could have a few minutes to clear my head.

And because I _haven't_ walked alone at night since I started my recent efforts to come to terms with the rape.

I wanted to prove to myself that Flowers is just a distant memory.

So I rode the subway to the 23rd Street Station, and then I came up top.

And that's when I saw him.

My husband.

"You didn't have to meet me," I told him as he got up from the bench.

"Yes, I did."

"Why?" I asked curiously.

"Because I couldn't wait another minute to see you," he said.

"Or maybe it's because Logan texted you to let you know that I was by myself," I posed.

"He did," he agreed carefully. "Is this where you get mad and call me overprotective?"

"No," I said after a moment's hesitation. "I wanted to do it…to not be afraid. And I did. And I wasn't. Now I don't have anything more to prove."

"You didn't anyway. You're the bravest person I know."

"I don't know about brave. Let's just say happy and leave it at that."

"Ah, but see…you're not the happiest person I know. That would be me, because I've got this incredible wife…"

"You don't have to sweet-talk me," I said with a smile. "You're most definitely going to get lucky tonight. It _is_ our wedding night."

He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me close as he said, "If you think I've forgotten about that, then you're the crazy one in this marriage."

"I think we both are."

He pulled back from me and took my hand in his and then we started walking towards home.

"I've never been to LA," I said after a moment, my mind drifting towards our weekend plans.

"You're a big city girl. You'll love it."

I hummed my agreement and leaned into him a little as I said, "Any chance of us joining the Mile High club? You know, Carolyn's in it…and Mary will be tomorrow."

"I bet neither of them were on a commercial plane," he pointed out in amusement. "But you know, I'm willing to give it the college try."

We chuckled together for a minute, and then I got serious as I asked, "Your mom's going to hate me, isn't she?"

"She'll love you," he replied confidently. "You know why?"

"Why?"

"Because _I_ love you."

"You think it's that simple?"

"With her it is. I mean, that's how it's _supposed_ to be with parents. They just want us happy."

"But mine..."

"Yours are messed up," he said on a laugh. "But they sure as hell got one thing right."

"What's that?"

"You."

TBC...


	112. Chapter 112

**Ross POV**

* * *

><p>"Five bottles?"<p>

"There were seven of us."

"Yeah, but still…" I said, shaking my head in astonishment.

I'd arrived home to find Liz in the kitchen, cleaning up the remnants of the evening, and the five empty bottles of Patron were still lined up on the table.

"Should I go through Bernard's trash and see how many bottles of Dewar's are in there?"

"No," I answered. And then as she bent down to pick up the dishtowel that had fallen to the floor, I grabbed her from behind, lowering my voice as I said teasingly, "But how long are you going to be bent over like that?"

She laughed, standing up as she turned in my arms.

"You're determined to traumatize your son, aren't you?" she joked, but even as she said the words, I started tugging on her shirt, encouraging her to pull it over her head. She continued laughing, and protested lightly while she half-heartedly swatted at my hands. "Danny!"

"He's not here," I informed her, finally victorious in removing the shirt. I immediately started kissing her as I walked her backwards into the refrigerator.

"Oh," she replied, almost sighing the word as she leaned her head back against the stainless steel appliance, allowing me better access to her neck.

And I'm not sure why I'm feeling so aggressive tonight.

Maybe because she got me going before I even left for poker night, with that kiss right here in the kitchen that made me want to pull her down onto the floor.

Or maybe it was the upbeat conversation of the evening…everyone's so happy and in love.

Everyone _including_ me.

Because at the moment, things are going really well. Considering that only a week ago, Liz's emotions were in turmoil and I was a jealous mess and there was a blackmailer after us…well, considering all of _that_, in a week's time, we've made tremendous progress.

Or maybe it's just that I've got a really sexy wife and she gets a little on the wild side when she's been drinking tequila and I plan on taking advantage of her hedonism.

I reached between us, undoing the button on her jeans and then sliding down the zipper, but then she said, "Wait."

"What?"

"He's not here?"

"No," I answered, pushing my hands inside of her pants and shoving them down off her hips.

"Danny…"

"He'll be back later."

"Ten minutes, later? Or two hours, later?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes," she said, capturing my face in her hands. "Because I don't want to get caught in the kitchen with my pants down. Again."

"Hours," I answered quickly before kissing her hard, putting an end to her objections.

She still tasted of Patron, and the feel of her, nearly naked against me, had me a little worried that it was going to be over too quickly.

"But we can go upstairs," I offered, deciding that the change in venue might buy me a little bit of much-needed time.

"How sure are you?" she asked, a slow smile spreading across her face as she reached for my belt buckle.

"He went to a club in Manhattan with a girl he met on the subway," I told her.

"He…what?" she asked, stopping her movements with my belt undone and her fingers on my zipper.

"He went to high school with her," I clarified quickly. "Nice girl."

"You know her?"

"Liz…he's fine. He said he'd be home by three."

"But…I think he's got another fake ID."

"He does, but it's at Mulder's and he promised not to use it. He won't be drinking."

Because I asked about that. And he admitted to me that Mulder had fixed up both of my sons with driver's licenses claiming they were born in the late eighties.

"_Don't bust his balls, Dad_," Jeremy requested, after making his confession. "_He only did it so that the three of us could hang together and have some fun. And he's keeping them for us so that we can only use them when we're with him."_

"_Your brother is seventeen,_" I reminded him, more upset about Aaron than Jeremy.

_"Almost eighteen. And you think he doesn't drink at parties? Trust me, Dad. Hanging with me and Mulder will be a hell of a lot better for A than staying in Albany and chillin' with his high school peeps."_

So I'd backed off.

I figure I'll discuss it with both boys once Aaron moves in with us, but for now, I'm going to trust Jeremy to stick to his word.

"I'm not going to bed until he's home," Liz said firmly.

I leaned in, kissing her enthusiastically before saying, "Who said anything about going to bed?"

"You're feeling awfully…amorous tonight," she said as I brought her focus back to us.

"You started it," I reminded her. "And I'm going to finish it."

"Not any time soon, I hope," she replied, finally tugging down my zipper and ridding me of my pants.

"We've got almost two hours before Jeremy will be here. I plan on making good use of every single minute."

And I did.

In fact, the timing was perfect, because at five minutes before three, we hurried up the stairs, carrying our clothes that we'd taken off of each other, and then we slipped into comfortable sleeping clothes and headed back downstairs to sit on the couch and wait for Jeremy.

"I wonder how Mulder's doing," she mused as I put my arm around her.

"Seriously?" I asked in amusement. "You're really thinking about what he's doing right now? Because I can guess, and it's probably not much different than what we were doing a few minutes ago."

"Not like that," she amended. "I just…I worry. I hope she treats him alright. I mean, what if this doesn't mean anything to her? What if after this weekend she never calls him again?"

"First of all, you know she won't do that. She's got two million men to pick from in Boston for a one-night stand. She wouldn't pick one of your friends, not when she's establishing a relationship with you. And secondly, I don't think it would matter."

"How can you say that?"

"He's a man," I said with a shrug. "A man who's anxious to shake off that virgin label, so if this weekend is only about sex, then at the very least, he will have learned something. And he won't be so naïve going into the _next_ relationship. Because you know there'll be more."

"I suppose. He's just so…I don't know. Sweet. And innocent. Did I tell you that he was wearing Star Wars pajamas when I went over there last weekend? He looked about twelve."

"I wonder what she sees in him."

"Cecilia?"

"Yeah. She's older than him…surely she's more worldly, growing up in the system like she did," I commented, and then suddenly, _I_ was worrying about him.

Did she have some kind of ulterior motive for wanting to spend time with him?

"Well, he's _really_ cute," Liz replied, looking up at me with a challenging smile.

"Oh, you think so, do you?" I retorted.

"Definitely. I mean, if I were twenty years younger…"

"Okay, so first it's Cutter, and now it's Mulder…"

"No, first it was _you_. And now it's _still_ you," she corrected, and then she reached up and kissed me, lightly at first, but then she leaned into me, deepening the kiss until we heard the door close and a nearly simultaneous, "Jeez, guys! You have a bedroom, you know!"

"We were waiting for you," I told him casually, and I'll admit it. I'm amazed with myself at how comfortable I am being demonstrative towards Liz in front of Jeremy.

But it's important, I think, for a kid to see that his parents love each other, and I know…Liz isn't his mother, but she certainly acts like it, and he can still benefit from having a good role-model couple to pattern his own relationships after.

"You were getting busy on the couch," he corrected, although he was grinning as he shook his head at us.

"We're much too old for that," Liz joked as she got up to give Jeremy a hug.

The patented test.

"You were smoking?" she asked him after subtly sniffing him.

"Cigars," he answered. "With Dad."

"Danny," she admonished as she turned around to look at me.

"What?"

"Cigars?"

"He's of age to smoke. One or two cigars at a poker game isn't going to kill him," I told her. Then I looked at Jeremy and asked, "Did you smoke anything else?"

"No. But let me tell you…Natalie was _definitely_ smoking," he answered smugly. "I mean H-O-T-_T_."

"Natalie?" Liz questioned. "This is the girl from high school?"

"Yeah, but she sure isn't high school anymore," he replied. "Okay, I'm off to bed. And thanks for tonight, Dad. It was fun."

"Any time."

"Wait, that's all you're going to say?" Liz asked him as he headed for the stairs.

"You want the details?"

"I…um…no," she admitted. "Or at least…"

"We went dancing," he told her. "And we might catch up again tomorrow night. Or I guess, tonight, since it's already Saturday."

"And she's…nice?"

"Nice, smart, smokin'…" he said, looking back over his shoulder at Liz. "Oh, and she's pre-med at St. John's. If we stick it out for a few more dates, I'll invite her over for dinner, okay?"

"Okay."

He turned and went up the stairs and Liz sat back down on the couch with a heavy sigh.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"I just…I don't know how people do it. Raise kids, I mean. How do you not worry about them all day, every day?"

"Because you teach them the best you can," I answered. "Besides, you _are_ doing it. Maybe you came into the game a little late, but Liz…you're doing a great job with Jeremy."

"I don't know about that."

"I do. And did you notice he's modeling his potential girlfriends after you?"

"Just because she's pre-med?"

"Because she's smart and smoking hot," I countered as I put my arm around her again so that I could pull her closer to me.

"You're just sucking up," she said, although she sounded pleased with my compliment.

"I'm being honest. And so you've got him doing that, and then Aaron wants to follow your career path…face it, you're doing a great job as a mother. And I won't even get started on Mulder…and Cecilia..."

She was quiet for a moment as she leaned her head against my chest, settling more fully against me.

"I wish I could help her."

"Cecilia?"

"Yeah. I have no idea who her father is, and I don't think there's any way she'll ever be able to find out. Unless Vanessa comes clean, and I don't see that happening."

"Maybe you should try talking to her again, now that she's had time to think about it," I suggested. "Maybe you just caught her by surprise the other day when you met her for lunch."

"Vanessa only cares about herself and about the political aspirations of her husband. She was like that even back in school, although then it was the political career of her father that was the main topic of discussion. She's a purebred snob."

"And yet you liked her enough to help her out of a jam," I pointed out. "She must have some redeeming qualities."

"Not really. I was more afraid that she'd do something drastic if she didn't have a viable plan. You know, a back-door clinic, or have the baby and leave it in a dumpster somewhere. She's always acted like she's untouchable, and I don't think either one of those scenarios is too farfetched for her."

"So how involved do you want to be?"

"With Cecilia? I'm hoping to stay involved. You know that."

"No, I mean, with finding out who her father is."

"Why?" she asked curiously. "Do you have an idea?"

"Well…not exactly, but playing the heavy is always worth a shot."

"Are you suggesting that I blackmail her?" she questioned incredulously. "Do I have to remind you that you're the chief of D's?"

"I'm not saying blackmail. I'm saying…talk to her again. Maybe play it like you figured out who it is and see what she says. Maybe approach her while she's with her husband, just to make her sweat it out a little."

"That sounds a lot like emotional blackmail," she stated, although she didn't sound turned off by the idea.

"She threatened you first, remember? Saying that she'd tell me everything," I reminded her. "And you know what? We know a lot of smart and resourceful people. If you want me to push this, we'll push it."

"You're walking a thin line, Danny," she said, and then she brought her eyes up to mine as she eased her leg over mine, moving so that she was sitting on my lap.

I put my hands on her hips, holding her gaze and nodding at her as I said, "I'll walk any line that makes you happy. You just say the word."

"What are you going to do?" she asked, smirking at me as she put her hands on my face. "Put in a call to O'Connor and muscle the information out of her?"

"No," I said on a chuckle. "I was thinking more along the lines of just…looking at her, at her husband, her father…people like that usually have more skeletons than closet space."

"True," she agreed.

"And then if we need O'Connor, I'll ask Logan to call him," I added drolly.

It was three-thirty when we finally went up to bed.

"Can you believe Lauren and Bernard?" I commented.

"Now you have three married couples working for you."

"Uh huh. You know, she hinted at it on Monday, but I never considered that she meant it."

"She keeps things locked away, I think. Her parents are pretty judgmental of her. I think it makes her afraid that everyone else will be, too. She was really surprised tonight when after she told us about getting married, none of us told her it was a mistake."

"It's not," I said as I turned out the light. "Even I can tell that."

"Even you," she repeated teasingly, and then I stopped in my tracks as I caught sight of her, undressing while illuminated by the light coming from the bathroom.

I wasn't expecting her to be interested in another go-round tonight, after the marathon session we had in the kitchen, but watching her undress certainly had _me_ ready to go again.

"You're pretty smart about love, Danny," she continued.

"I was smart enough to get you," I agreed. "Even if I did have to wear you down until you didn't have the strength to say no anymore."

She smiled as she walked towards me and I stood entranced, just watching her.

"You didn't wear me down. I was just waiting for you to get your head out of your ass."

"Took me long enough."

"Yes, it did," she agreed. She let her eyes walk slowly over me and then she asked, "Where are your hand cuffs?"

"My…what?" I asked, her question catching me completely by surprise.

"Your hand cuffs," she repeated as she pulled my shirt over my head. "We played a game tonight, and I think I misled everyone, suggesting that I've used hand cuffs on you."

"I've used them on you," I reminded her.

"Right. But see, the statement was _I've never used hand cuffs_. And technically, I haven't, but I wasn't thinking straight at the time, and I drank."

"Wait, so you talked about _that_?"

"I didn't go into detail," she said with a shrug, and then she reached for my sweatpants, quickly pushing them down as she said, "And trust me, I wasn't the only one drinking."

I wasn't sure what to think of that, and I immediately found myself trying to guess who else was into that kind of thing, but Liz had moved over to the desk where I'd emptied my pockets earlier, distracting me from that train of thought.

"Ah ha," she said with a smile, holding up the handcuffs. "So…what do you think? You want to make an honest woman out of me?"

TBC...


	113. Chapter 113

**Mulder POV**

* * *

><p>"<em>Men don't like smart women."<em>

"_Says who?"_

"_Me. Or at least, that's my experience."_

"_Then you haven't met the right men. I think the good ones appreciate intelligence," _I said confidently.

Because I know for a fact that Connie's smart. And Lauren. And Liz.

In fact, every woman in that entire group has to be knocking on the one-twenties, at least, and there's no way that lowers their hotness factor.

"_And you're a good one_?" Cecilia asked with challenge and blatant interest.

"_I'm getting there," _I answered.

Because I certainly have enough role models. It'd be awesome if I could just wizzy wig any one of them, but people don't operate like that.

But I'll get there.

"_Or at least, I want to be," _I added.

That was part of our last Skype conversation, the one that took place on Thursday night.

I'd passed along my travel details, and then somehow we started talking about dating experience.

Maybe because I wanted to get it out there that I _have_ none, and yet I didn't want to just come right out and say it.

"_I've never done this kind of thing before,"_ I told her.

"_Skyped?_" she asked playfully, and I found myself staring at her image on my Mac.

I mean _really_ staring, and I spiked for a minute, thinking about how in twenty-four hours, I'd be looking at her in person.

I wondered if she'd kiss me again, like she did on Sunday.

I mean, according to…well, _everyone_…this weekend was going to be about more than kissing, but I'm still not sold on the idea.

What if it's not and then I look like a dumbass for making assumptions?

"_I'm sorry. I was just teasing,"_ she said when I didn't respond to her joke.

"_No, it's fine. I just…I haven't…"_

And then I stopped because the list is so freaking long.

I haven't been on a train.

I haven't left the one-hour radius of Secaucus.

I haven't gone anywhere to visit a girl.

I haven't spent the night at a girl's apartment.

Hell, I haven't even been on a date, unless last Sunday afternoon counts.

"_I haven't really…dated…much,"_ I finally said.

"_I haven't either,_" she said easily. "_And usually the first date is the last. You know, I keep expecting you to cancel this weekend. You really already bought your ticket?"_

I smiled and picked it up from the desk and held it in front of the camera so that she could see it.

"_Why would I cancel?"_ I asked her.

"_Well, you know…when we were talking the other night and I kept going on and on about the analysis of NetBeans versus Eclipse in standard debugging processes…"_

"_Oh, well that's when I knew for sure I wanted to come_," I told her, hoping she would get that I was trying to make a joke.

She laughed, which I thought was pretty cool, and then she adjusted her glasses as she said, "_I guess what I'm saying is that I don't do a very good job at pretending to be interested in typical girlie things_."

"_Why would you want to pretend to be something you're not?"_

And thus the _men don't like smart women_ remark.

We talked a little more, and then she said that she had to go, and just before I clicked _end call_ she said, "_Mulder?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_I'm really glad you're coming," _she told me, and her voice was soft and sweet and she just looked so…pretty.

"_Me, too."_

It was almost eight o'clock on Friday night when I arrived at South Station.

_In Boston_.

That thought alone nearly sent me into a panic.

Since when do I _do_ shit like this?

I mean, seriously…

A few weeks ago, I practically had a meltdown when Lupo wanted to drive me into the city.

And now I _live_ in the city.

And I have friends and a job…almost everything I told the ten that I wanted out of life. And it was all so easy…like it was just right there waiting for me and all I had to do was open my eyes and reach out and _take_ it.

I glanced around the platform as I hiked my backpack onto my shoulder, and I forced myself to breathe.

And really, I was doing better now than I was before.

See, the train ride took three hours and thirty-five minutes.

And for exactly half of that amount of time – one hour, forty-seven minutes and thirty seconds – I debated getting off the train and going back home.

Maybe even back to Jersey and the safety of my basement crib.

But then I thought about Lupo.

He wouldn't be scared.

I mean shit, I'm going for a weekend hook-up.

This is the kind of shit guys brag about in every B movie I've ever seen.

_But those guys know what the hell they're doing_, my insecure side reminded me.

Then I got a text from Jeremy. And I have no idea how he knew I was freaking out at that exact moment, but he must have…although I guess with me, any time would've been a safe bet.

_**You're golden, dude. Hit up my digits when you're back in the city and we'll hang.**_

And that's when I started to chill.

I _am_ golden.

I was schooled by McClane, so if that doesn't score me points, then I don't know what will. I mean, he landed the ten, right? He must know a thing or two about how to get the job done.

And I've had several conversations with Cecilia this week. She _does_ like me or else I wouldn't be standing here in Boston.

Although, I haven't seen her yet…_did she change her mind_?

"Mulder!"

I turned around and saw her pushing her way through the crowd, heading towards me with a big smile on her face.

And just seeing how happy she was to see me made me excited and nervous at the same time and my brain went into vapor lock.

"I wasn't…um…sure where…" I began and then I trailed off when she threw her arms around me.

"It's my fault. I'm late," she told me, still hugging me. "I'm sorry, but my car wouldn't start and so I had to take the T and then my CharlieCard was drained and…"

She pulled back and looked up at me, still smiling, and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm…this is…yeah," I answered awkwardly.

"You've never been to Boston?"

"No," I admitted. "I've never been anywhere."

"Good. I like being able to give you a first," she said as she took hold of my hand.

A rush of apprehension went through me at her innocuous remark, but I ignored it as best as I could because coming to Boston may be the _only_ first she gives me.

Well, and the kiss last weekend.

But seriously, I'm not going to jump the gun.

If this is just about conversation and tourism, then that's fine.

Because she looks _really_ pretty…her long, dark hair was pulled back from her face, held with some kind of sparkly device, and she was wearing a skirt, so of course I had to look at her legs and then I had to look again, and…well, it was worth the train ride just to be able to see her in person for a few hours, even if nothing else happens.

"Are you hungry?" she asked me. "Or did you eat on the train?"

"I didn't eat," I answered, although I left out the part about feeling like I needed to hurl was the reason why I didn't.

And I knew I was being weird and non-conversational, but I couldn't seem to get my gigs running.

_You're going to blow it_, my mind supplied. _She's going to leave your ass standing here on the platform._

But either she didn't mind or she didn't notice.

"Me, either. How about we grab some take-out and go back to my place? And then tomorrow, I'll show you around the city. Is that okay? Your train doesn't leave until late in the afternoon, right?"

So after a short ride on the subway and a quick stop by Viva Burrito for a bagful of tacos, we arrived at her apartment.

And if I thought I was nervous _before_…

I mean, yeah, her place was totally sweet, but it's a studio, so it's all one room, so her bed is like…_right there_, and now I'm wondering what in the hell I'm doing here. I mean, this isn't some easy chick from a bar, it's Cecilia, and it's not just that she's nice, but she's also most _definitely_ a ten, and I could say that I don't score tens, but shit, I don't score at _all_, so I can see the batch file lighting up like a neon sign.

There's no way I won't disappoint her.

But I had to quit thinking about that because it was totally jamming my gears.

"Where's Gates?" I asked her as I forced my gaze away from her bed so that I could take in the rest of the apartment.

"He's at my neighbor's," she explained. "I knew I was going to be out all day, so I took him over there this morning before I went to work."

"Do you need to get him?"

"No, it's late. I'll get him tomorrow."

"Okay."

I mentally berated myself for sounding like a Dilbert, but I couldn't come up with anything _normal_ to say.

Because let's face it. I have trouble with normal.

But you know, maybe I'm not so awkwardly anomalous, because a few hours later, we were sitting on the couch, talking about anything and everything. The bag of food and a couple of beers were on the coffee table in front of us, where she put it when we first sat down, but we were both ignoring the provisions, because we were so into the conversation.

And listening to her talk about her life, and answering her questions about mine…somehow it just feels natural.

"So what made you decide to apply to the FBI?" she asked me.

She was turned towards me, with one leg underneath her, and as she asked the latest question, she picked up my hand, sliding her fingers through mine in a way that was unexpectedly arousing.

"It was Lupo's idea. I think he was afraid I'd end up in trouble for…you know, hacking under the radar," I answered. I've already told her all about Lupo. And Connie. Most of the gang, actually. "And a friend of his…Carolyn…um, she said that the feds like bringing in guys like me."

"You mean computer geniuses?" she asked sweetly.

"Something like that. Although compared to you, I'm not so sure."

"Oh, I'm not really…" she began, but then it was my turn to feel sure about something.

"Yeah, I think you are. And that's really cool. I like that you're smart. You understand what I'm saying."

"Most of the time," she replied with a smile.

"Yeah, I know…I think I just spent so much time alone, you know what I'm saying? Me and my Mac, that was it. I didn't have to worry about anyone else getting me."

"It's addictive," she said with a nod. "Computers don't criticize or talk back or disappoint."

"And if they do, you just pop the platform, right?" I added.

She laughed, nodding as she said, "Exactly."

Then she scooted a little closer to me and sighed as she said, "You know, this is nice. You're the best date I've had in a long time."

"Beginner's luck."

"You've been on dates," she argued lightly, apparently thinking I was being modest.

"Does last Sunday count as a date?"

"Sure."

"Then yeah, okay. Counting tonight, I've been on two."

"Seriously?" she asked, tilting her head up so that she could look at me.

I froze for a moment, thinking that maybe I shouldn't be so brutally honest. I didn't ask Lupo about whether or not I should lie about my experience.

Although the ten said to always be honest.

"Seriously," I answered. Then I smiled ruefully and added, "I told you I never came out of the basement."

"I thought you were generalizing," she said, and then she reached out and settled her hand on my chest.

It wasn't quite over my heart, but I'm sure she could still feel it pounding out a rhythm.

"No," I managed to say, but only just barely because she inched closer to me and I could tell that she was thinking about kissing me.

So I decided to man-up.

I mean, seriously. Jeremy said that women like a guy with confidence, so…

I kissed her.

And even though I've been replaying Sunday's kiss in my mind all week, it was nothing compared to this one.

She moved her hand from my chest up to my cheek and then when I backed away slightly, she ran her fingers through my hair.

"You know, I don't do this," she said quietly. "I don't invite guys back to my place. I'm not usually…you know…the type who just…does this kind of thing on a whim, and when I asked you, I couldn't believe that the words had come out of my mouth, but at the same time, I was glad they did…you know what I'm saying?"

Our joined hands were still on the couch between us, and with her other hand she was still stroking my hair and her eyes kept going back and forth between my eyes and my mouth, and man, if I thought I was short-circuiting _before_.

I'm already so freaking hard it feels like my zipper's going to burst at any moment and yet we're only getting started.

But despite my panic, I managed to nod that _yes_ I know what she's saying, and I like that she wanted me to know that she's not the type to ask every Tom, Dick, and Harry back to her place, and I have absolutely no freaking clue if that's the truth or not because my IQ has dipped down into the eighties, possibly even lower, and what's more amazing is that I couldn't care less.

"So…Mulder," she said as she let go of my hand and then slid her leg over mine, moving onto my lap.

And yeah, she's in a skirt, so there's really very little between her and me and my hands naturally went to her thighs and I could feel the heat of her skin through the thin material.

"What's your real name?" she continued. "I think we've talked about almost everything, but you've never mentioned that."

My _name_?

She might as well have asked me the theory of relativity because now she's got both hands in my hair and her mouth is so close to mine…

"Um…"

She smiled as she leaned even closer, pressing her lips against my cheek and then kissing a blazing path back to my ear, all while rocking lightly against me…

I closed my eyes and bit down on my lip really hard.

"_Sometimes it helps to think about something else,"_ Lupo advised me.

"_You mean, during…"_

"_Yeah. Or before, even. If you can distract yourself, it'll buy you a little more time."_

"_Oh. So think about…what?"_

"_Inflation. Politics. The price of tea in China. Anything other than what she looks like or what she's doing or how it feels. You catch my drift?"_

At the time, I thought I knew, but I wasn't sure.

But I'm sure as hell understanding now.

I desperately started mentally reprogramming a dual boot HP.

"Mulder?"

_Lupo didn't explain how the hell to distract myself when she's trying to carry on a conversation! _

"Yeah?"

"Is it top secret or something?" she asked teasingly, and then she sat back a little, running her hands down my chest as she held my gaze.

"It's…um…I don't like it. It's Norman," I admitted.

"You're definitely not a Norman," she agreed. "But Mulder's good. Although you know, Fox is probably even better."

She leaned forward, pushing against me again as she brought her lips to mine, and I clenched my hands on her thighs and then decided what the hell and slid my hands beneath the gauzy fabric.

_Bad move_, my inner voice screamed as my fingers traced over her smooth, bare thighs.

But it wasn't a bad move at all because she made some kind of sound of approval as she deepened the kiss, and then I ventured further, bravely grabbing onto her backside and pulling her even harder against me, feeling a sudden and desperate need to ease the rapidly increasing pressure.

I forced my mind to attempt to create a cipher, thinking that would be a good distraction to buy me a little more time, but my brain balked, pretending to have no clue as to how to begin such a process.

"Cecilia…" I managed to say, and I'll give myself points for being able to put three syllables together.

She hummed her response and then pulled back, looking at me with a slow smile that was almost more damaging to my control than the feel of her against me.

But what was I going to tell her?

Because at this point, it was probably going to take me looking at pictures of really old, naked ladies if I was even going to last five more minutes, so just asking her to slow down wasn't going to be enough.

But I had to start there, or I was going to die of humiliation.

"I need to…um…"

"Slow down," she finished for me, and I was amazed by her ability to know exactly what I was thinking.

_Although maybe it's obvious that I'm about two seconds away from blastoff._

"Yeah," she continued. "You know, it's been a while for me, too. Women can just usually get away without admitting it."

It's been a while? That means she doesn't know…so _that_ must mean that I'm doing something right…_right_?

The idea that my inexperience wasn't the elephant in the room gave me a resurgence of confidence.

And even though my hands were still touching the softness of her bare skin, and she was still sitting firmly against me in exactly the right spot, I thought I might be able to last long enough to make it good for her.

And what did Lupo tell me?

Right.

Even if it's quick, that doesn't mean the night has to be over.

And that men my age rebound quickly.

He's a smart man, because both of his statements turned out to be true.

Our first time was right there on the couch, with her on my lap, and it was kind of quick, but still...it was really, _really_ good.

So good that we did it again about thirty minutes later, only that time we moved over to her bed. And _that_ time I lasted a whole lot longer. Long enough to make her call out to God. Talk about an ego boost.

And then afterwards, she brought the food over to the bed, so we ate cold tacos and drank warm beer.

While naked.

On her bed.

The whole experience was just unbelievable.

After our late-night snack, we climbed under the covers, and she wrapped her arm around me, pressing her body against mine and laying her head on my chest.

"I'm really glad you came up here," she said quietly. "I wish you didn't have to go back tomorrow."

"I don't," I answered immediately. "I mean, I can stay another day. If you want. I can probably change my ticket."

"You'd do that?"

"Sure."

"Okay," she said with a smile. "And maybe next weekend, I can come down to New York."

"I'd like that," I replied, already thinking that if she does, we'll have to catch up with Lupo and the ten because I know they'll want to meet her.

We talked for a while longer, and then she fell asleep. I had a harder time drifting off. It might be because I haven't shared a bed with anyone since I was about seven, but more likely it's because I couldn't stop smiling, although I eventually managed to go to sleep.

And not to brag or anything, but at some point during the night, she woke me up, and I realized that I was ready to go again.

And wow…third time's a charm, I guess, because that time was like a marathon and we made a dent in the wall behind her headboard _and_ she actually screamed out my name.

Mulder, not Norman.

But that's a good thing.

Norman's the guy who lived in his parents' basement.

Mulder is me…and I have a _real_ life, including friends and possibly even a girlfriend.

On Saturday morning, I logged onto Amtrak's website and changed my return ticket to Sunday.

Then I checked my phone, and found one voicemail and two text messages.

The voicemail was from Lupo:

"_Sorry to bug you. I just…um...wanted to make sure you got there okay, and that…everything is…okay. And…yeah, just send me a text or something_."

It's crazy how attached to him I am.

I mean, my own parents haven't called me since I moved out, and yet Lupo's worried about me taking an overnight trip to Boston.

I opened my text messages and quickly read through the latest.

One was from Jeremy:

_**What time does your train get in? **_

And one was from Lupo:

_**The Gorens and Logans are in Boston, too. If you need anything at all, just call them. Or text them. And you can call me, too, but they're closer, so… **_

I quickly typed out a message to Lupo, so that he wouldn't worry.

_**Everything is great. I'll be home tomorrow and we'll catch up.**_

And of course I had to send one to Jeremy.

_**Change of plans, J. I'm staying another night. We'll walk your creds at King's tomorrow night.**_

And then Cecilia and I spent the day wandering around the city.

When we got back, she retrieved Gates from the neighbor, and then we took him for a walk and picked up more take-out, deciding that eating at home, in bed, would be preferable to sitting in a restaurant.

"I'd really like to find out," she said, sounding somewhat wistful.

We were laying together, sideways across the bed, and the empty pizza box was on the floor. Gates had already sniffed around it, snatching up the loose pepperonis, and then he'd hopped onto the bed and was now curled in a ball at the foot of the bed.

"You don't think she'll tell you?"

"Liz said that my mother is a total bitch, and that she's denying my existence. And I mean, you trust Liz, right?"

"She wouldn't lie," I said confidently. "She's a really great person."

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "I think so, too."

"Have you tried a little good old-fashioned hacking?" I suggested. "That's how you found Liz, so maybe…"

"But hack what?" she asked. "It's not like there's a database of men Vanessa slept with back in 1981. And if she didn't list him anywhere, then it almost has to come from her. Right?"

"Well," I answered as I leaned over, kissing her on the cheek before getting up from the bed. "What do you do when you've fried your front end?"

"Chat up Fred and Barney," she said, smiling as she hopped up from the bed and followed me over to where I was pulling my Mac from my backpack.

And why is it that her simple statement had me thinking about going for round six?

Because yeah, I'm keeping track. I mean, shit…this is a BFD for me, and the fact that I _like_ her as much as I like what we're doing…well, that's a good thing, right?

"Exactly," I agreed. "And we might not find him, but you know…we might."

I stood up and flipped open the laptop, powering it on as she wrapped her arms around me.

_Oh yeah…I'm definitely ready for round six. _

"Give me a couple of minutes to set up the parameters for a few different directions," I told her. "We'll start by frobbing it and then we can tweak it later."

"Do you typically like to share the syntax with markup languages if the computational semantics are defined?"

I stopped typing for a moment and looked at her because I just can't get over the fact that she knows what the hell she's talking about and she looks like she does.

_And_ that she seems to like me.

"No, and I'm working on that because it drives me crazy that when a C language fragment is syntactically correct it can still perform operations that aren't semantically defined, you know what I'm saying? But for now, I'm going with weak, static typing so the results might be broader, but we won't miss out on anything."

"More like natural language processors. Or maybe even more like _Mulder_ language processors," she teased.

I clicked in the last few characters needed to get the party started and then I set down the laptop and kissed her enthusiastically.

"Are you making fun of my code?" I asked her, turning us around so that I could pin her against the wall.

Gates barked when Cecilia let out a very girly-sounding squeal, but then the dog fell quiet, ostensibly overlooking the fact that I was fervently feeling up his owner.

"I would never make fun of your code," she replied with a grin, not seeming to mind at all the way I loomed over her, and so then I trapped her hands in mine, holding them against the sheetrock as I kissed her again, taking it more slowly this time as I pushed my body against hers, and I wanted nothing more than to give in to my sudden urge to take her right here up against the wall.

So I did.

And my run-time keeps getting better.

We'd just barely finished when the feep on my toaster went crazy.

"It got something?" she asked, and I have to say it…I really like that she's out of breath. "So quickly?"

"Oh, so first you jump my code and now you're flamin' my stamina," I teased as I picked up the laptop.

"Oh no," she countered, running her hand over my sweat-covered back. "There's not a damn thing wrong with your stamina."

I flashed her a grin and then we sat down on the coffee table, side by side as we looked at the screen.

"Nothing wrong with your code either," she mumbled. "Mulder…"

"I know."

"This could be…"

"Uh huh."

"What should we do about it?"

I continued to stare at the screen for a moment, and it hit me that I _know_ what to do.

I mean, like I said…I'm not Norman anymore.

I'm Mulder, and I work for the FBI, and I know people like McClane.

I closed the laptop and donned my most confident expression and then I said, "It's going to be fine. I just need to make a call."

TBC...


	114. Chapter 114

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>"Any word?"<p>

"From which newly married woman are you expecting to hear?" Carolyn asked in response to Alex's question. "Mary or Lauren?"

"Expecting? Neither, really. But I was kind of hoping to hear something from Lauren. You know, something along the lines of _Bernard's mother loves me like the daughter she never had_."

"You're afraid she won't take to her?" I asked.

"I don't know. I guess I just think that she really deserves a break, and her own mother is such a first-class bitch that it'd be nice to know she'll get parental support from somewhere."

"What's up with her mom?" Bobby asked. "She has a problem with Bernard?"

"She doesn't even know about him. Or at least, not that they got married. But you won't believe what she said to her after she found out about the rape."

Alex and Carolyn proceeded to fill us in on a phone conversation Lauren had with her mother last week, and I'm telling you…I was ready to get in the car and drive west to the land of ten thousand lakes.

Not that I care much for the state.

My memories of Minnesota involve frozen tundra and ice-covered lakes and pneumonia.

But it wasn't all bad.

It's also where I was when Carolyn proposed to me.

And it's where Alex saved my life.

If we drive out there to try to beat it into Lauren's mother's head that she raised an exceptional daughter, one over whom she should be bursting with pride, I'm not sure under which heading that memory would fall.

Good? Or bad?

I guess it would depend on whether or not it works.

Or maybe it would be more realistic to think that Alex will get her wish, and Bernard's mom will act like a real mom to her.

"Text her," I said to Alex.

"It's probably too soon. Their flight was scheduled to land at ten, and it's only twelve-thirty out there," she remarked. "She might not have even met his mother yet."

"I'll text her," I said as I pulled out my phone.

The four of us were on our way to the car, getting ready to go to O'Connor's house.

We arrived in Boston a few hours ago, and checked into the hotel.

"_No monkey business in the elevator_," I told Bobby and Alex as we headed to our rooms.

"_That's right. We don't know the owner of this hotel, so your sex tape might actually end up on the internet,_" Carolyn added, smiling at me as she took hold of my hand.

I love when she teases right along with me.

And honestly, I can't help being in a great mood. I mean, I'm here to meet my extended family who seem to be welcoming me with open arms.

And I've got Bobby and Alex with me. The only thing to make it any better would be if John and Mary could've come, too, but obviously getting in a weekend honeymoon is more important, and it's not like we won't be coming back up here again soon.

"_So you're saying that I shouldn't jump him until we get to our room_?" Alex replied with a smirk. "_Where's the fun in that?"_

"_Hey, maybe you guys __**want**__ to be viewed by millions of people,"_ I said with a shrug. "_Although you know, if you're going to do that, you might want to ramp up your performance a little bit."_

"_There wasn't a damn thing wrong with our performance_," Bobby spoke up.

"_No, I'm just saying…hang on, I've got my critique around here somewhere_," I said, patting down my pockets in search of the suggested paper.

"_Ha ha_," Alex said. "_You didn't see it."_

"_John's my brother,"_ I answered innocently. "_You think he didn't slip me a copy?"_

"_I think if he wants to live to see his one-week anniversary, he better not have," _Alex answered.

"_I'm sure he knows he'd have a price on his head if he shared_," Carolyn assured her, nudging me with her hip. "_Mike's just trying to rile you up."_

"_You're welcome,_" I said pointedly to Bobby, who smiled back at me as he slid his keycard through the lock on their room door.

Ours was the next one down the hall, and I started to make a joke about having to share a wall with them, but I decided against it because it might be _them_ who has to listen to _us_ on this trip.

I can't help it. I'm feeling my oats.

"_What time are we going to O'Connor's?"_ Alex called out to me.

"_I don't know yet. I'll text you after I call them."_

So then Carolyn and I went into our room and I sat down on the edge of the bed to call my uncle, only Claire had answered instead.

"_I like that you're a man of your word_," she said. "_So you're coming for dinner, are you?"_

"_Yes, ma'am."_

I hope I figure out how to say more to her by the time I actually get to their house.

"_And Shane said you're bringing some friends?"_

"_Yes, ma'am."_

"_Good. We'll have a bit of family about the house ourselves, so come over around four o'clock and we'll get on just fine."_

I hung up with Claire and set my phone on the night stand.

"_Four o'clock,"_ I told Carolyn. "_So we should leave around three-thirty."_

"_I'll send Alex a text,"_ she offered, picking up my phone. "_And then…I don't know."_

"_Well, what do you want to do for three hours?"_

"_After last night?"_ she asked with a smile. "_I'm thinking that a nap sounds really good."_

Because we'd stayed up until nearly three in the morning, and then we'd awakened at seven-thirty in order to be ready to get on the road by eight-thirty.

And of course, Carolyn consumed quite a bit of tequila last night, so I could only imagine how tired she must be.

"_Set the alarm," _I told her, nodding towards my phone that was still in her hand.

I watched her while she sent Alex the text and then set the alarm in case we both fell asleep, and when she finished, I motioned for her to stand in front of me.

"_Is the Patron catching up to you?"_ I asked lightly as I began unbuttoning her blouse.

"_It's your fault_," she answered, letting her eyes fall closed while she stood still and let me undress her.

"_I think I need to hear this."_

She'd told me about the drinking game, but not the specifics.

"_I think there was only one statement made that didn't make me drink."_

Her voice was low and soft, and her eyes were still closed and her face was only half-lit by the dim light coming from the single bulb in a sconce near the door.

I found myself slowing down, enjoying the look and the feel of her as much as the sound of her voice.

"_Should I ask?"_ I questioned, my voice coming out as a low rumble.

I let the blouse fall to the floor and then I took a moment to trace my fingers over her skin before reaching up to unhook her red silk bra.

"_Well, it was my statement,"_ she clarified as a smile played on her lips. "_So I guess maybe that's cheating, but not really."_

Her breathing increased as the red silk was added to the pile on the floor, and then even more so when I leaned in to press a lingering kiss between her breasts.

"_Keep going_," I told her, moving my hands down to the button on her jeans.

"_I was going to say the same thing,"_ she responded huskily.

"_Oh, I plan to_," I promised, freeing the button and then pulling the zipper down incrementally.

With her jeans undone, I had to remind myself to keep it slow, to draw it out. I slid my hands inside just enough to push them down, and as I moved the pants down her legs, I leaned in again, close enough so that she could feel my breath on her skin.

"_Good,_" she answered, her voice barely a whisper now. She was losing focus, and that realization made me smile. It's not an easy thing to do, with a woman like her.

After she stepped out of her pants, I tossed them aside and then, starting at her feet, I ran my hands up her legs, standing up as I moved further up her body, making sure to touch every inch of her, and by the time I was standing fully in front of her, I could see her trembling in anticipation.

And her eyes were _still_ closed and that kind of unwavering trust, especially from someone like her…it just blows my mind.

_"I never have to fake it_," she said as I just stood there, drinking in the sight of her.

I was so distracted by the visual stimulation, that I almost forgot what we were talking about.

And here _I'm_ supposed to be the one in control.

But then I got it.

"_That's what you didn't drink to_?" I asked, unable to resist grabbing onto the red silk panties, that last remaining obstruction, and pushing them down to the floor. "_I'm impressed."_

"_Not ever,"_ she clarified, and then she let out a slow, unsteady breath as I got down on my knees in front of her, my hands still burning trails all over her because honestly, I can't get enough of touching her.

"_With you,"_ she added after a moment, and then it finally hit me what she was trying to say.

_"Oh. That's a good thing,"_ I said.

Not exactly my brightest statement, because of course it's a good thing, but I was feeling so pleased with myself that more intelligent words were escaping me.

I looked up at her and saw her smile fully as she moved to run her fingers through my hair.

"_That's a very good thing_," she agreed.

"_So you'll…you know, tell me, right? If you ever…have to drink to that? Because I wouldn't want you to…"_

What can I say?

I don't want her to be playing that game in ten years and suddenly be the one to have to drink.

"_Mike…look at us,"_ she said, finally opening her eyes and settling her gaze on mine. "_There's no danger of that ever happening."_

_"But…"_

_"But if it does, then yes, I'll tell you."_

I relaxed again, mollified by her promise, and then I set about finishing what I'd started.

And I can say with absolute certainty that there was no faking involved during any of the three times she called out my name during our…nap.

So now, as we're heading towards the car on our way to meet the O'Connors, it's possible that I'm focusing on Lauren because I'm nervous about the evening ahead, but I'm really not.

I'm relaxed and satiated and I'm feeling so completely in love with my wife that I can't imagine what could possibly happen tonight that will change my overall sense of well-being.

They can like me or not like me and it won't make or break me. And I already know how Shane feels about me, so the odds are stacked in my favor.

No, I think I'm focusing on Lauren now because of what I've learned about her mother. And I see so much of me in Lauren that it really bugs me to know that aside from swapping words for punches, her mother still lands the painful blows, just like Shannon.

I typed in a quick message.

_**Have they crowned you Miss California yet?**_

I'm sure she'll have something smart to say about that, but I don't care. I can just imagine that it'll make her smile, too.

"Give me the keys," Alex said as I tucked my phone back into my pocket.

"You could ask nicely," I replied.

"I could," she agreed, still holding out her hand.

"No dice, chicky. You're in the backseat."

"Chicky?" she repeated challengingly, rising up to stand as tall as her five-two stature would allow. "You're feeling awfully brave today."

"I'm an O'Connor and we're in Boston. Are you sure you want to mess with me?" I teased.

"I don't care if you're Prince William and we're in London," she retorted. "Give me the damn keys."

"Bobby," I said, looking helplessly at my friend while dangling the keys over Alex's head. "Control your woman, will you?"

"You're on your own," he answered.

"Oh my God," she muttered, rolling her eyes dramatically, and I know I was asking for it, holding the keys just out of her reach, but it's so much fun messing with her.

"Mike, give Alex the keys," Carolyn said, always the voice of reason. "Lauren's going to text you back, and you can't text and drive, so…"

"Yeah, Mike," Alex said. "Listen to the boss and give me the keys."

And then my phone buzzed and I involuntarily dropped my hand slightly as my focus shifted, and she reached up and jerked them from my hand.

"If you'd just asked nicely," I joked.

"Uh huh," she replied as she climbed in the driver's seat. "So what'd she say?"

"I'm not sure you're cleared for that kind of information," I said as I silently read over the text.

_**You know it. And now with two tiaras and my Mile High club trophy, there may not be any room left in the bed for B.**_

"The Mile High club," Carolyn commented as she read over my shoulder. "Good for her."

"Good for Bernard," I agreed, chuckling as I typed her another message, because even though I was glad to see that her sense of humor was intact, I still wanted to know his mother's reaction to her.

None of my business, I know, but I can't help it.

_**Just get a bigger bed. Your tiaras won't keep you warm at night. So everything's good? With Mrs. Bernard?**_

My fingers faltered slightly while typing _Mrs. Bernard_, because I mean...that's Lauren. And I don't know if she's taking his name or not, but still...it's her.

And yet I guess it's his mother, too.

Maybe I'll stick with calling her Miss Minnesota.

"Are you sure you want us to do this with you?" Alex asked as she drove us towards Charlestown.

"Yeah, you know, we can just drop you two off and then come back later," Bobby added. "If you want some time…"

"No, this'll be good," I said quickly.

"My dad's pretty jealous," Alex said, catching my eye in the rearview mirror and flashing me a smile. "I think he always fantasized about finding out that his real parents were part of the Irish mob."

"Your dad's adopted?"

"No, but he dreamed about it anyway."

I grinned back at her and then looked at my buzzing phone.

_**When B told her we got married, she raked him over the coals. And then she hugged me so hard I could barely breathe. And now she's on the phone calling everyone she knows. There's going to be a hell of a party in Compton tonight, if you want to come. **_

Her message closed with a smiley face…not a Lauren thing to do, and yet I couldn't stop from smiling when I saw it.

"Looks like Bernard's mom has welcomed her with open arms," I said, and then I read the text aloud.

"Good for her," Alex stated. "You know, we should have a party for them when they get back. John and Mary, too. We can do one big thing at the hotel."

"Yeah, let's make it happen," I agreed as I typed my response to Lauren.

_**Enjoy it, kiddo. You deserve it.**_

"You're so sweet," Carolyn said quietly, leaning her head against my shoulder as we sat closely together in the backseat.

"Sshh," I teased. "Don't let it get out."

I barely set my phone down before it started ringing, and I thought maybe it was Lauren, but when I looked at the display, I saw that it was John.

"Are you kidding me?" I said when I answered the call. "You're calling home during your honeymoon?"

"I seem to remember you calling home while at a nude beach in Rio, so get off my back, okay?" he replied, and he laughed, but I could still tell that something was up.

"What's wrong?" I asked him.

"Nothing."

"John..."

"Mary asked me to call you. But it's nothing."

His remark put me on alert because Mary might be slightly neurotic and cynical and cranky sometimes, but she wouldn't ask him to call me for no reason. Not today.

"Tell me."

"I got a threatening email last week. It was no big deal…I get them from time to time, but Mary saw it, and she made me promise to tell her if I got another one."

"And you did?"

"Today. Because yeah, she also wanted me to check my email while on our honeymoon."

"She's worried," I said automatically. "What's it say?"

"The first one said _six feet won't be deep enough_. The one today says _all the money in the world won't save you."_

"Any thoughts? Angry employees? Someone you might have fired? Competitors?"

"All of the above," he answered. "And Mike, I'm serious. I get this kind of thing on a regular basis."

"Okay. Forward both of them to my email and I'll look into it. And if you get anything else, send it on. You'll be home tomorrow night, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Alright, put Mary on."

"Okay, thanks. Oh, hey, how's Boston?"

"We're on our way to O'Connor's house now."

"You know I'd be there for you any other time, right?" he said seriously. "And you're good?"

"Better than that," I promised.

There was silence for a minute, and then Mary came on the line.

"Don't tell me I'm crazy, Mike."

"You're not," I said quickly. "But no one's going to follow him to the Bahamas to try to take him out. And sending threatening emails is a non-violent act. It's usually done by guys who are too scared to confront the person they're angry with. You know that."

"Yeah…I…yeah."

"So relax and enjoy your honeymoon. How many of them do you think you're going to get?" I asked her, injecting a little tease into my voice.

"Well, this makes two, although Nassau's a hell of a lot better than a no-tell motel with a slutty maid and a cockhound husband."

I barked out a laugh and said, "Exactly. So close the laptop and get naked. And try to quit being law enforcement for the next twenty-four hours, okay?"

"Is that an order?"

"I'm the brother-in-law. I get to do that."

She snorted out her disagreement, but I could hear the amusement in there as well.

"I hear you. And I'm already naked, so…"

"Okay, too much information. I'm hanging up now."

She laughed, but then she said quietly, "So you really think it's nothing?"

"I think it's not enough of something to ruin your weekend. We'll get Mulder on it, and he'll find the source in no time."

"Okay. You're right. Thanks, Mike."

I hung up the phone and then put my arm around Carolyn, pulling her close to me as I filled everyone in on the conversation.

"I would imagine that he does get a lot of hate mail," Bobby agreed when I finished.

"But I can see why she's worried," Alex added. "Mulder's here in Boston, right?"

"Yeah," I answered. "He was going home today though, I think. We'll call him later and see what he's got going on."

Alex found a place to park about a block away from O'Connor's upscale Charlestown home, and as we got out of the car, I was finally hit with a little bit of that expected apprehension, but then Carolyn took hold of my hand, squeezing it a little as she smiled at me, and I let out a deep breath and nodded my head.

"Okay, let's go meet the rest of my family," I said.

But halfway up the block, Bobby's phone rang.

"It's Mulder," he said after checking the display.

"You think he was monitoring our calls and now he's volunteering his services?" I joked, thinking it was odd that he'd call right after we were talking about him.

"Would it surprise you?" Carolyn asked with a grin. "He's almost too smart for his own good."

"There's no such thing," I countered, bumping her with my hip. Then, since the phone was still ringing, I looked at Bobby and asked, "Are you going to answer it?"

"Um…it might be better if I do this on speaker."

"Sure," I agreed, glancing around at the nearly empty street. "Let's see what the kid wants."

"Mulder, what's up?" Bobby answered. "I've got you on speaker, so you've got all of us."

"Lupo said you're in Boston, right?" he asked hesitantly.

"That's right," I said. "We're about to meet up with O'Connor. What can we do for you?"

"Oh, hey…shit, I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Alex spoke up.

"Are you sure? 'Cos I can call McClane…"

"Mulder," I interrupted. "Spit it out."

"Okay, well…dudes, I hate to hijack your weekend, but shit…you're not going to believe this."

**THE END**

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and a huge thank you to guitar73girl. I may take a break for a bit, but I'm sure I'll be back sooner or later. **


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